The Northern Wolves & the Western Dragons
by moonraven16
Summary: Sintara Targaryen is the only child of the Mad King, Aerys Targaryen the second, and the Queen, Rhaella Targaryen. The day of her nineteenth nameday is upon her and a celebration is called forth within King's Landing. But by nightfall a house will be no more, a king will fall and a dragon and a wolf flee for their lives. [Revising] AU This will not follow GOT Books/TV Series.
1. Winter is coming

A sharp shout followed closely the shattering of glass against the wall sounded loud and clear down the spacious halls of the palace. This was a normal occurrence within King's Landing, for the dragons that lived there always had such a temper. The owner of such a rage was a rather stunning young woman who was rather petite in height, and frail in appearance. A true princess and future heiress to the throne, but at the moment she appeared more like an elegant dragon on a rampage.

"I told you I did not want one!" That scream was followed by another item breaking against the wall.  
"Get out! Go away all of you!" This one was followed by an inhuman roar that demanded attention. The sound of feet scurrying out of the room was all that could be heard.

The attire that chosen was rather feminine with a touch of masculinity. Her authority was represented by a form-fitting ensemble constructed of fine leather, canvas, and suede. The top portion was made of pieced together leather, the strength of the material and molded fit reflecting the strength of her character. As decoration and a mark of her high status, there was a wide strip of fine mauve fabric running down the front. The skirt reaffirms her identity as the Iron Throne heir and trousers implying her standing as equal to men. Sintara Targaryen's chest heaved with exertion as she dropped the glass in her hand, letting it shatter, and plopped on the ground. The dressing room was a disaster, but a dragon's wrath was never peaceful.

As she sat down on the dirty ground a scaled beast trotted up, it was pitch black with cool amber eyes. The size was a little larger than a medium sized dog with large wings that could span around half the room if he so wished it. Balerion was the biggest hatchling in his clutch and one of the smartest as well. He was rather stoic yet far meaner than his temperamental sister who had destroyed yet another room within the palace. Instead of the imprint of a mother, he saw her more as a sister he looked after.

"Can you believe it Balerion?" The young Dragon sat down beside the woman. "I told him I wanted no celebration of my nameday, mother too and yet they still wish to throw one. But I know the real reason why."

Sintara rose from her place up in the ground and brushed off any dirt upon her attire."This is not for me, he just wants to remind the houses he is in charge." She referenced bitterly of her father.

The mad king had been growing more and more paranoid after her birth and now at the age nineteen, it had been blown out of proportion. He thought everyone was after his throne, including certain houses. Her nameday celebration was a perfect way to gather everyone and remind them who ruled, it was not for her but his benefit. It would all go wrong she just knew it. She tilted her head backward when she heard the sharp rapping on the door, she assumed it was her mother and was certainly not going to wait around for a scolding or argument.

"Balerion help me." She quickly pleaded while shooting over to a nearby window.

With a snort the dragon shook his head while trotting over, allowing her to step on his back and host herself up and out the window. He trailed soon after with a light beat of his large wings, standing on the still and looking down at her. Thankful they had been on the first floor otherwise there could have been a little trouble. Sintara grabbed his tail when he offered it and pulled her out of the bush she had landed in. The sharp rapping on the door grew louder as Sintara took off with dragon close behind her into the woods.

She knew she would most likely upset her mother with her refusal to be at the celebration and infuriate her father, but so be it. She lacked any true friends, besides her dragons, because of her more straightforward personality as well as her title. But she didn't mind really anyway.

"Let's see if we can find Sunfyre." She told Balerion.

The dragon didn't appear like he wanted to do that. Hunting sounded more pleasing to the stomach, but he followed her to the small lake a bit north from them in search of the fishing dragon. Sunfyre was a part of his clutch, a sister as white as snow with gold laced throughout her body. He found her annoying, but Sintara for some odd reason liked her.

•••

The sound of many hooves clopping against the ground had been almost tiring at first. But after the first couple of weeks, it had turned into background noise. Seated upon a dark-colored horse was a tall young woman. Her hair, so dark it almost seemed black, was thick and so long it reached almost to her waist normally. She had it combed and pulled into a large, elegant braid.

Her dress was a dull blue color with faded-black patterns. It tightened a little under her breasts, the fabric clasped together with a pin. The pin was golden, with the little figure of a dire wolf - the Stark House sigil. The dress trailed behind her a couple of feet, the sleeves long. The fabric was, in general, soft to the touch. And around it all, she wore a large, black cloak. It flowed all the way to the ground, the neck and shoulder areas lined in thick, warm fur. She had, of course, long since tucked her cloak away; it was far too warm for her winter clothing.

"But, Mother, must I wear this dress? It is far too formal." She complained softly.

She didn't mean to whine. She could have handled being carted off to some party the mad king was throwing - even if it was, clearly, just a demonstration of his need to assert himself. Nonetheless, she could have handled it with class. But then she was shoved into this dress, told it's what she would be wearing to the celebration. Had she not respected her parents she would have flat out refused to wear it and slipped into something she much preferred. Her mother had fussed over her appearance for days, as though she were trying to make her look 'perfect.' Her father had supported this, and something about the look in her parents' eyes made her uneasy.

"Hush. It is Sintara Targaryen's nameday celebration. You are in attendance representing House Stark; when they see you, they see the North." Lady Stark's tone was filled with impatience.

They'd had this argument repeatedly since leaving their home, and during the trip her mother had begun to lose her collected air. The closer they came to King's Landing, the clearer it was she was anxious, though of what specifically Ravenna did not know. She felt a twinge of guilt, feeling selfish for complaining. Especially when both of her parents were so clearly troubled by something.

"... You're worried about this celebration, aren't you?" she asked suddenly, casting a glance at her mother. There was a long moment of silence between the two women and they rode side-by-side on horses, her mother looking beautiful despite the stress that weighed on her.

"Yes. I am worried." her mother murmured after a moment, nodding slowly. Ravenna was about to press for more information, but her mother expected this and beat her to it.

The following words that slipped from her mother's tongue were words that Ravenna had heard all throughout her life. They were the words House Stark lived by and were heard quoting in many different situations. These words had many meanings and many applications ; and in this moment, in the meaning Ravenna heard, she felt a chill run down her spine, a sudden, unknown fear striking her heart. It made her take this situation far more seriously.

"Winter is coming."

She did not have time to press her mother with more questions. Reality hit her rather suddenly as she realized where they were. The noise around them grew louder as she focused, no longer blocking it all out. She looked around at the city, at all the people; in the distance, she could see the ocean. They were here - they'd made it. They had reached King's Landing.

After a month-long travel, after much planning and being told over-and-over again how to act and speak, what to say and what not to say, the young woman found her mind going blank. This was her first visit to King's Landing, and although it was quite a site to behold (could you blame her for being excited to see the Iron Throne?), she couldn't help but feel a dread in her heart. She longed to turn around and race back to the cold world she called home; to the Northern land that she knew so well. But it was too late. They were here, they were approaching the palace, and in no time they would be in the middle of a celebration for a young woman they didn't even really know.


	2. The Red Keep

Small hands reached down to take hold of the skirt over the trousers she wore. She did not care much for the trousers, the skirt though was rather lovely and she didn't want to get sticks and dirt stuck upon it. She trailed after Balerion allowing the mythical creature to lead since she probably would have gotten lost. Her sense of direction was not the best.

She didn't need to duck under most tree limbs as others might if had if wandering through. Sintara stood at roughly five feet, with no promise of growing taller. Along with growing taller, she possessed the curves and medium sized hips of a full grown woman. The bust of the nineteen-year-old was considerably large, though, she often hid it under modest clothing.

She was a health chubby, though not overly so. Her arms were muscled, due to the fact that she fought physically. The lips of the young woman were thin and a light pink. Her nose was small, proportionate to the rest of her face. It was upturned slightly at the end. Low cheekbones were also present on her childish face.

There is no getting around the fact that the heiress was pretty, but nothing really stood out from her face that would make her beautiful, except for her eyes. She was blessed with the light lavender eyes, which were placed close together on her features. The hair of the heiress was a such a light platinum blonde that it looked almost white, the hair was thick making it a little unmanageable with the proper help it was tamable.

It was a little wavy and ends at her back her skin was fair and could be described as being a peachy shade. No significant scars mark her skin, except for a few scratches here and there from her adventures her training. She was a lovely sight to gaze upon altogether. Her feet brought her closer and closer to her destination before finding the lake appeared as if by magic as it was in teardrop-silver in color and it was shaped like a perfectly flat disc of metal.

No sound rang out from the shimmering emptiness of space around it. Monastery quiet, it was lined with pine trees and the whiff of mint wafted up to her. Unruffled by wind or rain, it was vault still and restful.

The only sounds were the bumbling of bees and the heavy echo of a raven crawking. Out on the lake, flopping trout were slapping the surface. They were hoping to catch one of the squadrons of flies that buzzed about. The heaven-leaking light added a golden tint to the face of the lake and it was paradise. It was disturbed as a large shadow passed over the water. As silent as the shadows the beast descended and trapped the trout with a clawed foot.

The young woman's beamed as the Dragon beside her rolled his eyes. Sunfyre flapped her glorious wings and landed directly beside the heiress looking rather bored. She was smaller than her brother but faster and slightly better at flying than him. Sunfyre greeted the pair with a low growl before tossing her fish into the air and setting it ablaze with a burst of fire from her maw. She was unable to devour it for Balerion leap and caught it within his powerful jaws.

"Sorry." She quickly voiced when the white dragon looked at her.

Every muscle in her body visibly tensed as she listened to low rumble coming from Balerion. The dragon had his head lifted high and his nostrils flaring, he smelt something on the wind that she couldn't. She picked up her skirt and hurried off to the side, hiding behind the broad trunk of a tree. Both dragons hurried over and slipped in behind her. The thunderous sounds of hoofs disrupted the silence alongside the clanging noise of metal bouncing around.

She didn't exactly count them as they hurried passed, but they wore the sigil of the Targaryen house and at the head was a man with almost golden blond hair. He had a face that could charm even snakes, but what else would one expect from a Lannister. Jamie Lannister was one of her father's knights and the son of the Twyin Lannister, the current hand of the King. Sintara had no love for the son, but the father wasn't all that bad once you got use to him.

The castle must be in an uproar if the Knights were out looking for Sintara. Even though she had run off herself, her father wouldn't suspect a house of kidnapping her, would he? What was she thinking! Of course, he would he was not called the mad king for nothing. This could be problematic.

"Balerion, Sunfyre." She called to the two as she darted through the forest. She refused to be taken back to the castle atop the horse of Jamie Lannister, the arrogant prick would be smug the whole way and his hands tended to stray when it came to her.

She picked up her pace as the two led her through the forest and back home. The walk itself felt like it had taken forever, and that they were going in circles, Sunfyre apparently knew the forest well for they arrived through the entrance of the Red Keep moments later.

There was a large herd of people ahead of them, who they were and what houses they belonged to were none of Sintara's concern she wanted to get into the Throne room to see if her father was there yet. Before that, she heard her name was called out in a very demanding manner.

"Sintara!" The voice was feminine but held a certain amount of authority and confidence within it. Sintara's head whipped around as a woman walked(if that's what you'd like to call it) up to her. Rhaella Targaryen was quite a sight to behold, it was impossible for her not to attract attention wherever she went. Once dubbed the Queen of Love and Beauty, she continued to live up to that name this day.

Many in the land believed the Queen to be Sintara's sister, the woman appeared an older version of herself. Sintara had yet to master the art of gliding when walking, and her mother's eyes were a slight shade darker than her own. The woman was also several inches taller than her daughter and had a more mature appearance. At the moment, she looked like a very upset dragon, beautiful but deadly.

"Where have you been? The King has all the Goldcloaks out looking for you, half the Kingsguard, and was ready to start accusing Houses until I reasoned with him."The queen snapped. Sintara's cheeks slightly pinked with her mother's words, she hated being the cause of such fuss and was not one for drama.

She didn't even get a word in before the woman started dragging her off, dragons in tow. The feast would be starting soon and she had to be made presentable...again.

* * *

She had heard tales of dragons. They were rare tales, of course; the elders spoke mainly of the White Walkers, which crept through her nightmares always. But dragons were a different sort, and she'd heard many different tales, painting a picture neither of fierce danger nor of great beauty. It was somewhere in between, leaving Ravenna mystified and disbelieving.

But now they were heading to the palace, and in the distance, before the rooftops completely shrouded her view, she caught a glimpse of a winged beast flying gracefully. Her heart had leaped, and her discomfort had grown. She wasn't sure if she was in awe and wanted to stay, or if she was greatly disturbed and longed to run.

She couldn't believe that they were here already. She wondered what Sintara Targaryen looked like, and also wondered why her father had never brought her here before. Many things flooded through her mind, nothing lingering, nothing really important. She attempted to distract herself with the sound of hooves, though it didn't seem to be working the way she'd hoped.

Instinctively her hand flew up, fingers lightly encasing the golden dire-wolf pin, hoping the familiarity would calm her. It had been a gift to her mother from her father, on the day of their wedding. Ever since her mother had given it to her, she'd worn it with everything.

As they got closer to the Red Keep, Ravenna noticed a distinct atmosphere among the guests already there; like it was quiet, yet everyone was still talking. She had kicked her horse into a rather quick trot leaving her parents ways behind her in her growing curiosity. Two dragons flashed in the distance unseen by her.

It perhaps added to her confusion when she was met with the longsword of a Goldcloak pointed at her face as she reached the gates. The two locked eyes for a moment as if each was daring. Finally, Ravenna sighed, raising one eyebrow.

"Careful with that thing, you could really hurt someone,"she quipped, completely relaxed or at least as relaxed as her noble posture allowed her to be.

The city watchman before her likely didn't know that this girl carried two daggers with her at all times, on this occasion concealed in the sides of her dress's bodice, with the sheaths and handles wrapped to look like mere decorations.

Unfortunately, the Goldcloak picked up on this confidence, though not on the specific detail, and moved his sword to guide Ravenna away from a carriage that had passed its inspection by a fellow Goldcloak.

"Under orders of the king, you're to stay put until we search your transportation. Princess Sintara is missing," the armored man explained briefly and distantly like he'd been doing his job for way longer than he was meant to.

Several sets of hoofs sounded loudly behind her as her parents showed up, her mother looked faintly upset with her for riding ahead but her father was as stoic as winter. No words were exchanged between the Starks or the Goldcloak besides the ones Ravenna had spoken earlier. She wanted to know how they could have lost the Crown Princess, but she didn't need her mother chastising her.

The search was quick and painless and Ravenna along with the Lady and Lord were soon admitted into the event. After the horses were tended to and tethered within the stables, Ravenna was ushered inside the Keep and into a rather large room.

In all her years, Ravenna had never, not even once, been possessed by a need to visit the capital. To see the southern knights and their painted armor, and King's Landing after dark. All the candles burning in all the windows... None of it had mattered to her. While the awe of something new struck her, she still held the sense of needing to flee. She still felt it all too strange for her liking.

Their customs, the way they dressed and spoke. Even the food they served. While lavish and new and wondrous, it held a sense of foreboding that she did not like.

She sat stiffly at a large table with her family, not too far from the setting of the royals. Ravenna had yet to spot Sintara, and a sense of distress seemed to flow through the crowd. She heard whispers here and there, little snippets of conversation that made her curious - but all she could make out what that Sintara was nowhere to be seen, which Ravenna could have deducted herself.

There was music playing and even dancing, but it was clear that most of the dancing was done by women. Among the other houses, there were a select few drunkards, which every celebration seemed to have. The eighteen year was quiet, staring at her plate and eating slowly. She didn't want to be here, but she would not complain aloud.

Her parents talked quietly to each other, but no matter how hard she tried, Ravenna simply could not decipher what they were saying. All she could do was drink and eat, minding her own business and filling herself up with curiosities. She heard her mother remark about Sintara, though she remained silent. Who knew where the young woman was?

Ravenna couldn't help but think it was rude not showing up to your own namesake celebration - but, on the other hand, a part of the young Stark girl felt sympathetic. The feeling faded swiftly, though. She imagined the heiress to be quite spoiled, a frown touching her lips. Suddenly she wasn't sure she actually wanted to meet this 'Sintara.'

"Ravenna." her mother hissed in a low breath, giving her a sudden, stern look. "Smile. Remember to smile."

Resisting a sigh, the young woman did as she was told. She smiled, doing her best to make it seem genuine. She wanted to be happy; she wanted to enjoy her time here at King's Landing. But she found that her parents' discomfort, the uneasiness they were hiding, was quite disturbing. She wished she were could brush it off, but her curiosity was strong. A sudden noise, a mild commotion, drew Ravenna's attention suddenly away from her parents, curiosity burning in her dark gaze.

* * *

 **Okay, so please try keeping an open mind with my story. This is an AU and will not be following the current Game of Thrones books or tv. We'll be seeing and meeting some canon characters, but their roles in the story will be different. I've made changes to the Targaryen House and Starks, having taken out the several children they had before and replacing them with my OCs.**

 **The Starks, Eddard, Lyanna, and Benjen will remain, with Ravenna replacing Brandon. I will not be making changes to any of the other Houses. The Targaryen do not have an army of dragons, just the two I've placed in there. Whether or not there will be more dragons in the future I have no clue. The Direwolves won't show up until much later but will play a big part in the story at some point in time.**

 **Don't have a Beta for this so sorry for the errors(if any) I read it over, but keep in mind that I am a human and can make mistakes.**

 **I don't own the Game of Thrones or any of the Canons, like many I wish I did. The OCs are mine, though.**


	3. The Dragon Family

Sintara's cheek stung, the red welt upon it was slowly fading away yet still managed to burn. Why he always hit these days was a question she'd never figure out. Upon leaving the front gates, the Queen took her daughter to her father to show him that she had indeed not been killed, raped or kidnapped by any of the houses.

She did get a slap on the face for leaving, though, nothing too drastic for it was her Nameday. The old king himself was a rather vile man in appearance, between the disgusting hair and overgrown nails and so on it was a surprise he had been attractive in the first place. She was glad she took after her mother in appearance now, although she had gotten the comment of how her eyes were too much like her father's and that frightened her to no end. A shrill cry came from the corridor, as Rhaella brought forth the hatchlings.

"Balerion and Sunfyre." Sintara called to the two, they padded over and took a seat on each side. Both looking at the King with shifty eyes.

"Show them off, remind the houses that there will always be a Targaryen on the throne." That made Sintara scoff for her father called the dragons abominations.

The two dragons were anomalies within their clutch, they were grotesque in the eyes of many Targaryens. Dragons have long serpentine bodies, with proportionately long necks and tails. Dragons bodies have four limbs: two short back legs and two large wings as forelimbs, a similar body plan to a bat.

Whereas Sunfyre and Balerion had bodies more of a quadruped body, four legs, a long lean back, and their wings attached near the center of their backs instead of as forelimbs. They were abnormal, but having been the only dragons born in years they were not killed in the Mad King's rage, he had the head severed off the female who bore them making them the last of the Targaryen dragons.

"Of course father." She grumbled under her breath making the two trail directly beside her as her parents walked ahead of her.

They made their way into the Red Keep and to the doors of the Great Hall, where the Kingguards flocked the royal family. After receiving a warning glare from Father and an encouraging smile from Mother the group entered the room. She reminded herself to keep her back straight and her chin up, she would at least come off far more regal than she felt. The Queen led the way as Sintara place a royal mask on her face and hoped to whichever Gods that the dragons would behave themselves. The throne room entrance was made up of two huge bronze and wood doors that laid open as she and her mother passed.

The Iron Throne sat on the opposite side, atop a raised dais climbed up to by two set of wide steps of rough black stone. A small table was placed on the dais with two chairs where she and her mother would be seated. Naturally, upon the throne would sit her father looking imposing as ever with those skulls decorating the walls.

The floor is made of different types of marble. Overhead was the towering vaulted ceiling, with massive arches and columns. On the right side of the Hall stood a raised gallery that connected to other areas of the Red Keep. To the left side of the Hall, several windows with stained-glass depictions of the seven-pointed star of the Faith of the Seven allowed light to enter. As she set off directly behind her mother she forced her hands to relax and did her best to keep them from clenching too tightly.

She moved similarly to her mother, a blinding grace, and elegance that was hard to match. It was easy to see why Targaryen women were known to many as the fairest women in the world. With silver-gold hair and eyes amethysts, they were certainly an exotic sight. Though Sintara knew that there more eyes on their dragons than herself and mother, it would seem Targaryen women were only second to their beasts.

She felt a little more at ease when Balerion pressed his heated body against her thigh and pierced the souls with venomous eyes of any who he thought was a potential threat or danger. Sunfyre was in love with the attention and paraded around like the little queen she was. Sintara stepped, and thankfully did not trip, up the dais. Her father took his seat upon his uncomfortable looking Throne while she and Mother took the table to the right of the throne upon the dais.

The feast began as soon as they were seated, all sort of foods were being brought out. After waiting for the King to take the first bite, only then did the rest of the guests begin to eat. Balerion had curled directly at her feet and Sunfyre was watching everything patiently beside her mother. She didn't touch anything as her mother began setting food upon her plate seeing as her arms weren't as long and couldn't reach certain foods.

Sintara was keeping her eyes on her plate or her dragon, not bothering to make conversation even with her mother. But the Queen was never one to leave her daughter sulking so she struck up a conversation with her. Balerion tried to entice the young Targaryen into feeding him, in return, she rolled her eyes at him. There was a giggle on the side prompting Sintara to rotate her head and gaze at the older version of herself.

"He adores you. Balerion and Sunfyre are the first Hatchlings in years, dragons have been depleting since the Dance of the Dragons. You are lucky you get to bond with yours at such a young age." The Queen whispered.

What was that a hint of envy she heard? Sintara peered at her mother noticing the age that lined her face, she was still a very beautiful woman, but she appeared so tired right now as if she need a nice long rest.

"You will make a lovely Queen, you and your dragon." She couldn't understand where all this was coming from but Sunfyre could smell the food ahead and gave an impatient hiss. The Queen shushed her with a Valyerian command. Balerion blinked his eyes and focused on the house table that was closest to them. It was the one with Direwolf for their sigil.

* * *

She had been hoping to see a dragon, feeling as excited about that as she had been to see the Iron Throne. The commotion that had drawn the attention of most in the room, which quickly became everyone's attention, was that of the entrance of the royal family. The sight of the king almost made Ravenna jump - in the stories she'd once heard, he'd been described as a handsome man. But it was clear to her, and she tried to think this respectfully, that his glory days were over. He did not look as grand as he once did; she felt that the word grotesque was a bit harsh, though it kept returning to her mind.

Then her eyes moved to the dragons. They were quite the sight to behold, and she couldn't help but stare for a long moment. Within seconds, however, her gaze had moved to the ladies of the house. The queen, Rhaella and her daughter, the heiress Sintara. They looked very much alike; with their beautiful, flowing hair and their gorgeous gowns.

Ravenna recalled the words she'd heard many a man murmur or boast when speaking of the Targaryen women, and realized that it was true; they were beautiful, as lovely a sight as their dragons, and even just as fierce. It almost made Ravenna feel self-conscious, though, after a moment, she realized that she was happy with her own body. Sintara was quite short; but in contrast, Ravenna stood at a decent 5'8" and though this was not extraordinarily tall, she suspected she would look exceptionally so next to the heiress.

Ravenna's skin was tanned, perhaps even a little more so than that of her family. She carried the normal Stark appearance, however; dark hair, gray eyes, a firm build. She looked much like her father, though she was glad she'd inherited her mother's lips and eyes. The young woman watched as the Targaryen's made their way through, the eyes of everyone in the room on them.

She realized that she was starting to frown again (she disliked everything about this situation, except for the sight of the dragons), and with a quick movement she straightened up, placing a smile on her lips. She didn't want her mother to scold her again.

"Quite the entrance." she heard her father whisper, though she didn't catch her mother's reply.

She didn't care to listen, however; she was watching the royal family. She wondered for a brief moment what it must be like to be the royals (and perhaps with a scowl she recalled how her house had once been known as 'the Kings of the North'), though she realized that she wouldn't like being in that situation. She much liked her home, and despite what everyone else said she loved the winter.

The loved the dark and the thought of White Walkers, even if they did terrify her. She thought about the Wall and the Night's Watch. No, she decided - a throne would suit her family ill. They belonged up North, and this celebration seemed even more preposterous than it did before.

The sudden sound of clashing and shouting shook her violently from her thoughts. Her eyes widened a little, and she jerked her head to glare at whoever caused the commotion. A rather large man had fallen to the floor, taking his dishes with him. Ravenna suspected he was drunk, and curiously she began to search for any ideas as to what House he belonged to.

Her parents didn't seem to notice; they were looking straight ahead, watching the royal family expectantly. The House of Umber, she realized. The early-drunkard was an embarrassment to his house, yes - especially to make such a spectacle in front of the mad king! They were a vassal house that holds fealty to her House and Winterfell and for that, she prayed she was the only one to notice his fall.

It was then she noticed the silence that had fallen in the room. Ravenna's eyes turned to the front where the King had risen to stand from his throne.  
"You are the House of Umber. Your drunken stupor is an insult to my daughter's celebration. I consider this an act of treason, you will be beheaded tomorrow at dawn."

* * *

 **Thank you for those of you who are finding errors in my story and telling me about them. I'm going back and correcting them. I greatly appreciate that and those of you who are keeping up with the story despite some of the changes I've made.  
**


	4. The Gift

The heiress still had her eyes focused on the dogs ahead of her. The ones who lived in the north and the cold, Sintara did not think much of them or of any house. They could all be easily crushed under the foot of a dragon so in her mind, they would always be second best. But Sintara had to admit in politics, placing the dogs before the cats was perhaps not the greatest idea.

It was a Lannister Lion that served as the King's Hand, yet it was the Starks that were before them and favored. The platinum blonde glanced upwards at her father, did he wish to truly turn the houses against them? There were already whispers on the tongues of many about Aerys Targaryen, next to his physical health his mental health was fading fast.

His paranoia of everyone and thing was growing worse as well as his very thinly veiled lust for his hand's wife. Of course, mother knew of it but naturally turned a blinded eye for her daughter's sake rather than her own. Sintara was dreading everything she was going to have to fix once she was on the throne. It was already giving her a pounding headache.

The eyes lifted when a rather loud sound reverted through the room. The heiress found her eyes on a male laying on the ground, she was too far to figure out which house, though. She caught her mother widening her eyes when she saw a serpent like tail disappearing between the legs of the knights guarding them. Balerion was still at her side so that meant Sunfyre was gone.

As much as she might have liked to help the drunken fool who clearly couldn't hold his ale so early in the day, she was more worried about Sunfyre. The heiress was up before the Queen could rise and she bustled after the white dragon ringed in gold. She managed to shove past the guards and to the center of the room as the young Dragon made her way to the fool on the ground.

The sheer size and mass of the man said he was from the house of Umber. Before she could actually call the friendly dragon back to her side, Sunfyre began licking his cheek. Thankfully the dragon never got a chance to taste him for two knights appeared at his side tell him the king requested his presents.

Sunfyre padded back over to her side as she watched the knights drag the drunk to the dais as her mother stood and gazed warily at her husband. The mad king stood from his throne, the light eyes glinted with an almost crazed look.

"You are the House of Umber. Your drunken stupor is an insult to my daughter's celebration. I consider this an act of treason, you will be beheaded tomorrow at dawn." The man sat down with those words letting them settle within the houses as Sintara stared at him with a large frown.

She heard a rustle of noise behind her as chairs fell backward and those of Umber house rose to defend their family member. What was wrong with these people?! What was wrong with her father...oh that's right he was mad! Could you actually behead someone for getting drunk at a celebration? Sintara was still in midst of trying to process what in the Seven Hells was going on, she didn't notice Sunfyre returning to Rhaella's side nor the way Balerion had lumbered his way over to her obviously tensed with the situation.

Truthfully, Sintara really just wanted to yell at the top of her lungs and exit in a dramatic flare, but that would solve nothing and instead, she kneeled on the ground stroking a clearly agitated black dragon who kept growling at nothing in particular. The nostrils puffed out clear white smoke as a long scaled tail slapped harshly against the ground.

The wings on the back remained pressed against his side as she ran her fingers down a hot scaled neck. The sound of metal plates clanging against one another had her shifting her eyes behind her. The king's guards had tensed the moment the Umber house rose, ready to defend their king even if he was mad. The lavender eyes forced themselves back on to the House of Umber, they like most everyone else had frozen when the guards shifted.

Sintara was not thrilled with the thought of her nineteenth ending in a blood bath, or the loss of a House. She would need all the support she could have once her time came to sit on the throne. Her eyes scanned the table before seeking out a woman who was clearly distressed and furiously whispering to a larger man beside her.

The man was massive, far larger than the rest of his kinsmen. He must be the head of his house, she learned of him in her studies. Jon Umber or better known as Greatjon. The man had his eyes staring intently at another, she glanced in the same direction and found the House he was looking at, Umber wanted support from was the House of Stark.

That was right! The Umber were of the North, they are sworn to Winterfell and the House of Stark, the Kings of the North. Sintara might have laughed if the situation weren't so dire, she couldn't let her pride get in the way of logic right now. Even if the Umber got the Starks to stand with them, they had the King's guards, dragons and the lions on their side, or rather his there would be no winning.

The sharp snapped of jaws near her ear brought her out if her thought process, Balerion was not settling in the slightest. She, in return, ignored the black dragon as she took in a light breath of air through her lips and gathered her courage.

"Father?" Her voice broke the silence as she spoke out. She turned her full attention to the old king while pressing closer to Balerion for comfort. It was rare she spoke out against her father, having learned the hard way to bite her tongue.

"Perhaps I could give a request?"

She received a warning glare from the beauty ahead of her but ignored her mother. The king bore his eyes on her and she might have flinched, but a dragon should never show fear in front of other. He had lifted a hand to have the drunk Umber taken to the holding cell but paused in the gesture when her voice claimed his attention. He nodded waiting to see just what his fiery little dragon had to say.

"You have not given me a gift." The comment had him narrowing his eyes. "May I ask for a pardon for that one?" She pointed in the direction of Umber. She knew she would certainly get quite a talking to for pulling this stunt. He could deny her but would he? Sintara waited patiently for the man's decision, and let out the breath she had not know she had been holding when he dropped his hand.

"Release him."

He ordered the guards as they let go of the man. With that handled she quickly returned to the dais and to her mother, hoping a certain pair of eyes was not glaring at the back of her head.

* * *

Ravenna glanced at her parents and saw that their faces seemed paler than usual. Her father's gaze was blank, but her mother seemed worried. And then she saw it - the flicker of a tail, the flash of an odd shape - and then suddenly the beast was there. The dragon, not very far from where Ravenna sat, began to lick the face of the man. Her eyes widened slightly, stomach churning.

She had liked the initial sight of them - but this was far too close for comfort. She didn't even realize that she had begun to clutch at her golden pin, filling her mind with thoughts of Direwolves and falling snow. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine the cool breeze against her skin or the smell of burning wood.

The young woman peeled her eyes open, gaze following the drunk Umber man and locking on to the mad-king himself. Even from this distance, she felt that he looked a little crazed. When she heard the sentence, she frowned deeply. Without much thought she began to stand, prepared to speak out against the king's unjustified words. But in an instant her mother's hands were clutching her tightly, yanking her back down into her seat.

The look in the woman's dark gaze was more than enough to silence and stiffen her. Who would consider drunk behavior treason? Deserving mild punishment, perhaps - but treason? Worthy of death? It was unreasonable. He was living up to his name as the mad king, and she'd only been in his general company for a few moments.

She plastered an emotionless expression on her features, unable to force a smile but refusing to frown and receive more hissing words from her mother.  
And then she realized she couldn't see the heiress. She arched an eyebrow curiously, and then turned slowly in her seat, peering around the crowd. She barely managed to spot the young woman not too far from her.

She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, watching the young woman with a careful gaze. Movement drew her attention away, however, and she swiveled around to see the table of House Umber standing to defend their family member. Ravenna bit her lower lip, swallowing hard. Would they be sentenced to death for treason as well?

She turned to look at the mad king, doing her absolute best not to glare. She imagined he'd have her head for treason, as well, if he caught even so much as a glance he didn't like.

There was silence among the houses, some watching the king, some watching the house of Umber. What would the king do? Was he about to sentence them to death as well? It felt as thought, for a long moment, things slowed down. It was in this brief moment that Ravenna's senses seemed to liven up; she could feel the heat coming from her plate, and the smell of the food and wine was almost intoxicating.

Her heart was beating hard in her chest, and she felt each painful thump. It seemed to suck the air from her lungs, and her body trembled slightly. She realized that the rushing feeling in her veins was, in actuality, the feeling of adrenaline. The way she felt when she was practicing with her blade, or when she was out hunting with her father and she was just about to make a kill.

It was the kind of energy that raced through your veins when you knew something serious was about to happen. She wasn't sure if she was scared or excited or perhaps she was disgusted with the king. Angered by him? Annoyed by the cocky air that the Targaryen's held, as though they were so much better than everyone else because they were on the throne? Because they had dragons?

Ravenna frowned. Her thoughts had taken a darker turn than she'd expected. She wasn't envious of the Targaryens, but she certainly didn't appreciate their over-confidence. Humility was the true mark of a leader, and she saw no humility this evening. She didn't want the throne for her own house; she simply wanted to return to the North, to live her own life outside of the capital and away from the political drama. She dreaded the future, especially. Already her father had a match in mind for her, and what terrified her more was how her mother agreed. _'You're ten and eight, Ravenna. It's time you find a husband.'_ Her mother had said. But Ravenna found no interest in any of the men she knew.

She was drawn from her mind when she noticed the tension building in her father. Her father had turned to look at the Lord of Last Hearth, and she'd seen an exchange between the two men that she understood all too well. Her heart beat fast in her chest - did her father really expect to wage war with the mad king and win?

Especially with so few men, so far from home, and on the mad king's turf? House Umber were well-known great warriors - but this situation was dangerous, regardless. She clenched her teeth, clutching at her mother's arm and leaning forward to whisper in her ear.

"If he plans to stand with Umber and wage war, here and now, when he lack manpower and support, then father is as mad as the king." Her whisper was a low hiss, audible only by her mother.

The woman looked at her with a grave expression, opening her mouth to reply. But she was cut off when a youthful, that of a woman, voice rang out throughout the hall. All eyes moved to look at the heiress who dared speak in this moment. Ravenna saw the look in the mad king's eye, even from the distance she was at, suspecting this would not end well. _A sly move. One point to Sintara._ The Stark thought, smirking.

To pull a stunt like this would surely make the other houses think twice about where their loyalties truly lie - when Sintara took the throne, a time all-too nearing, the house leaders would look back on this moment and likely continue to pledge their loyalty to the capitol - to the Targaryens, and especially to Sintara. The soon-to-be queen was already winning the hearts of many.

Ravenna wasn't sure if she felt this was a true movement from Sintara, or if this was just a ploy - a game to keep the houses loyal. She leaned more towards the second thought. This was politics; nothing at this celebration was without meaning.

Nonetheless, the Umber man was released. There seemed to be a murmuring among the houses. Ravenna turned slowly to look back at House Umber, watching as the men and women exchanged glances. They didn't seem to relax entirely; not until their drunkard stumbled back to them. Ravenna's watched the scene with a guarded expression, though a smirk still touched her lips.

Her gaze moved to the heiress, an eyebrow arched curiously. Should she hold respect for her? Consider her bold and merciful? Or was that just a game, just what the young woman wanted everyone to think? Would she rule the way her father now did? There was an old saying that children always turned into their parents. It was now that the young Winterfell woman heard the murmuring between her own parents.

She was just about to invade on their conversation and as what was going on when her mother turned to her. She took Ravenna's arm in a firm grip, looking her in the eyes with an expression that she couldn't decipher.

"Ravenna," her mother began in a low tone, "When the appropriate time arrives, you are to meet with Princess Sintara, and you are to befriend her."  
These instructions mildly puzzled Ravenna, but it only took a moment for her to understand. Politics - it was better to ensure the safety of your house than to risk war. If Ravenna befriended the heiress, it could give House Stark a placement of safety. It _could_ , but it guaranteed nothing.

"Mother... This could be futile. The Targaryens and the Starks are opposites - we haven't a thing in common. How could I possibly befriend her?" Ravenna whispered frantically, looking at her mother with wide eyes. The beautiful older woman shook her head slowly, eyes closing for a brief moment.

"Do what you must, my dear. Think of your family - think of the future. Any amount of an alliance with the Targaryens promotes a promising future. This could be the security we need... Winter is coming, and we must protect ourselves. Look out for one another."Ravenna knew her mother was right.

While the North was strong, attempting to rally everyone together would take far too long - risking more war would end in blood and defeat. The dark-haired woman took a deep breath, closing her eyes or a moment to collect herself just as her mother often did. She nodded slowly, opening her eyes again.

"Yes, mother." was all she could say. She turned to look at the young woman, swallowing hard. Once things relaxed a bit more and the opportunity presented itself, Ravenna would approach her. She'd introduce herself, and she would do her best to befriend the young woman. She felt it was a long shot - she didn't think she'd get along with Sintara, but she had to try. For the sake of her family and future.

Things had seemed to calm enough for Ravenna to feel comfortable with standing. She lifted her dress slightly to prevent herself from stepping on the hem, making her way carefully towards the young Targaryen woman. As she approached, she offered a respectful bow.

"Many congratulations, Sintara. I hope this celebration is enjoyable and," She paused, glancing at the mad king, "Peaceful, in the honor of your namesake day. I am Ravenna Stark, daughter of Rickard and Lyarra Stark. I wished to tell you that I think what you did for the Umber man was very... kind. And very brave." She smiled, her tone low and collected, though it sounded far more genuine than she'd expected.

Her gaze, dark and guarded as always, inspected Sintara carefully, however, she had to keep her feet from moving backward when burning eyes of the young dragon named after the Black Dread bore holes into her. She hoped that the apple had fallen very far from the tree when it came to this Targaryen otherwise she might become someone's dinner.

* * *

 **Longer chapter since I really wanted them to meet in this one. Let me know about anything you think I might have done wrong or sounds off. I am trying to keep this somewhat like the experience we got in the GOT Books.**  
 **Did I do the age right? They don't say eighteen or nineteen when saying someone's age?**  
 **Anyone have a particular house they might want to see on the throne? I have no clue who's going to be sitting on that thing right now.**


	5. False Friendship

She lowered her own visionaries after catch a rather silent yet meaningful glare. She sighed heavily through her nose, and could already feel the sting pain in her back for her insolence. The things she did to secure her place upon a throne she never even wanted. As the man stumbled back to his house she followed his movement with cool calculating eyes, lifting the pale orbs to meet the those of house head.

A light smile creased her lips and was the only sign of acknowledgment from her before she turned her eyes elsewhere. Sunfyre was chain to her mother's chair as Balerion settled down in a more comfortable position at Sintara's feet.

"I will be needing to gather more saliva for tonight." The queen commented with a mere glance at her daughter. Besides the grimace, there was no sign that she heard her mother speak for she was too deep in thought on what new forms of punishment her father could possibly come up with.

She was brought out of her senseless thoughts when the rumble cut through the air, a warning more than a threat. The eyes that had been shut opened themselves as the female approached, the distance was respectable enough so she had no clue why Balerion appeared ready to gnaw off her leg. The dragon had risen to stand and seat himself directly in front Sintara.

He stopped his growling though see it was a female and besides the odd smell she carried, appeared harmless. He snorted a thick fog of smoke from his nostrils and shifted his weight between his clawed paws. Sintara rested her hand under her chin and leaned against the table, atrocious posture for a queen but seeing as the throne was not her's just yet she was going to enjoy what little freedom and lack of responsibility that she had.

"I will find enjoyable peace once I am good and dead." Sintara's tone was bittersweet and almost harsh, but she changed her tune a little when she heard who's house the maiden belonged to. "You're a Stark?" It was a rhetorical question as a ghost of a smile touched her lips.  
"Mother? May I take a walk through the gardens with Lady Stark?" The alluring Queen furrowed her eyebrows, but could not see what her daughter was scheming with a mere look, so instead simply asked.

"You will take Balerion?" It was take the aggravated dragon or that Lannister knight her father had placed as her personal guard. She was not very fond of the golden lion and son of King's Hand, and Balerion was such better company.

"Of course." She answered, rising without looking at the King once. "Come along," Sintara called to the Direwolf maiden as Balerion waited for Ravenna to go ahead of him.

Sintara slipped out the massive doors of the Great Hall and began roaming through the Red Keep. She remained rather silent as she walked through the corridors and turned down hallways. Without a proper guide one could be lost in this large palace for days, well not truly she was sure the servants might find the person sooner or later that or a dragon.

Her eyes scanned for the door that led to the garden as the sharp tapping sound of Balerion's claws bounced along the walls. Once finding the door she pushed it open and stepped outside, by now the day was fading into dusk and the stars, as well as the moon, were began to show. Sintara stopped walked as she bent to take off her shoes, she found the things rather restricting and if she were allowed to she would walk around without shoes and the blasted heels for the rest of her life. She dug her toes into the cool grass as she began walking again.  
 _  
_"Your dragons are quite a sight to behold. It must be wonderful to share such a connection with them."

She glanced over her shoulder hearing that squeaky voice behind her and had nearly forgotten that she had brought the Stark to come along. She ignored the comment for the moment as her eyes spotted the stone benches off to the right. She left her shoes where they were and strolled over to the seat.

She seated herself upon it before twisting her body and laying on her back. She stretched her legs, although draped one off the side of the bench as her hair sprawled out in white blonde streams behind her head.

"There is more to a dragon than just their appearance." She spoke at last while letting her eyes stare up at the sky. There was no arrogance within her voice the tone was flat as if she was stating a fact. She turned her head so she could see the Stark, observing that the northerner was rather a sight herself. But to Sintara she was just another pretty face.

"Enough of this petty talk what do you want from me?" She asked bluntly. "Do not say nothing or friendship." Sintara cut her sentence short when she felt a nudge of a heated snout against her hand. She turned her head to the otherside as the dragon looked at her eagerly with a very charred something in his maw. Dragons did not eat anything raw contradictory of belief anything ate was burnt alive. She wasn't sure what it was he was eating and so declined the offer. The hatchling turned to stare at the Ravenna with curious eyes, before tearing into his unknown meat.

* * *

The posture the young woman had taken was certainly not the posture of a queen. Half of Ravenna was appalled - but she knew she only felt that was because she wanted to find something to dislike about Sintara. The truth was, she found it mildly amusing. But she buried this confession away, sticking to her need to dislike the Targaryen heiress.

She would only be friends with her outwardly; she didn't like the conversations she imagined herself possibly having with Sintara if she attempted a true friendship. It was unrealistic - she was certain that Sintara disliked her just as much, anyways. Her rhetorical question made Ravenna arch an eyebrow. She dared not look at the dragon - his presence made her uncomfortable. She didn't like the way he looked at her, even if he was just doing his job of protecting her. She swallowed hard, teeth clenched. The Targaryens had a natural connection with dragons, but Ravenna saw it as strange and unnatural.

Again, the young woman was struck with conflicting feelings. _No_ , a voice whispered in the back of her mind as she thought of direwolves. The connection the Targaryens had with their dragons seemed similar to the connection between a Stark and the direwolf. Of course, Ravenna had no direwolf and had not seen one since she was a little girl - but even that had been a rare and amazing sight.

"Mother? May I take a walk through the gardens with Lady Stark?" _  
_  
Ravenna's eyes widened a little more at this, mouth opening as if to protest - but she remained silent. She listened in mild horror as the queen instructed she take 'Belyron' or whatever. She hadn't been listening close enough. Her stomach churned - she hadn't expected that sort of response. In truth, she'd expected Sintara to brush her off. And when the young woman ordered her to follow, she barely resisted snapping back.

She clenched her teeth, lacing her fingers together and squeezing tight. It would look like a lady-like movement, but it allowed her to clench her fists without looking hostile.

Ravenna cast a long glance over her shoulder. She felt eyes on her - but through the crowd of people, she saw her parents. She couldn't read their expressions, but she locked eyes with each for a brief second before she followed Sintara out of the Great Hall's massive doors. She was struck by just how large the Red Keep seemed. She wondered if, as a young girl, Sintara had ever gotten lost. She doubted this, though. As they wandered out into the garden, Ravenna could not prevent a smile from faintly touching her lips.

It was beautiful - and not just the garden, but the sky above. It made her feel almost at home - it was the same sky she saw at home, and something about that comforted her. Perhaps that was strange, and she certainly couldn't explain it. She didn't care to, however. There were some things, she believed, that were better left mysterious or unknown. The garden itself in all it's beautiful, aromatic wonder, made Ravenna doubt there ever was a winter.

She was not used to such a sight - up North, it seemed winter was ever present, always on the boarders, always creeping in somehow. But this place looked like an endless summer that both dazzled and dizzied the young woman.

Swallowing her pride, thinking of what good could come of this, the young Stark woman stepped forward, casting a dark glance at the dragon. She followed carefully after Sintara, glancing back occasionally at the dragon. She wondered if he'd nip at her heels or even full-on attack her. She resisted a grimace at this thought, forcing a smile on her lips as she followed after the heiress.

She wondered for a moment of she would be required to murmur some respectful thanks or some bull about how she was 'honored' to walk with Sintara. She was perhaps too prideful to manage this, however, practically choking on the acidic words. She couldn't do it. She couldn't say it and not sound sarcastic - and she wouldn't risk out-right offending the young woman. That would ruin everything. So, she tried a different tactic.

"Your dragons are quite the sight to behold. It must be quite wonderful to share a connection with such a creature." her smile was not as forced this time, as she had truly meant it.

Ravenna watched, mildly surprised, as Sintara removed her shoes. A part of her wished she could do the same, but she refrained. Sintara was the Targaryen princess; she could do as she pleased, and young Lady Stark knew better than to assume she could be so carefree with the other. She followed quietly after her guide, forced to lift her dress ever so faintly so as not to step on the hems. She hated her dress. It was pretty and formal in its own rights, but it was too restricting, too lady-like. She wasn't used to wearing things like it, and she was growing warm.

She was prepared to sit on the bench beside Sintara, but, as she stretched out on it, Ravenna froze. Sintara was the only 'princess' she'd met, but she was certain that it was considered unconventional and informal to act this way. She watched, on eyebrow arched curiously, watching the young woman. She was debating whether or not she admired the young woman's free spirit, or if she was annoyed by her.

At her words, Ravenna nodded, looking down at the ground for a moment. At her question, her head snapped open. She opened her mouth, prepared to spew some bull about how she desired friendship - and of course, the royal cut her off, catching her immediately. She paused, studying the princess. She watched as Sintara began to share a meal with her dragon, barely managing to avoid a grimace.

She didn't even want to think about it, really. Nonetheless, she found that beneath her outward dislike for the young woman, she had a mild respect beginning to grow. She smirked, nodding slowly. Fine - she would not lie. Her parents would be outraged if they heard what she was about to say, but lying would get her nowhere. She knew from the beginning that a true friendship wasn't likely - she'd warned her mother. Why delay the inevitable? So, she rolled with the truth.

"Protection. Things are uneasy right now, especially with how the king is... Well, you know. I mean no disrespect, Princess Sintara." She explained, shaking her head slightly. "My initial intention was, in a sense, friendship. Or perhaps something to work on that is similar. It could potentially ensure the safety of House Stark - we do not wish for more war and bloodshed." She paused for a long moment, watching the young woman carefully, calculating her response. She wanted to say more - to clarify that the Starks were not weak, that they could hold their own; but she was certain that this would have the opposite effect she wanted.

"Was I really so easy to read? Or do you just have a knack for knowing what people really want?" She asked in an almost curious tone, the expression on her face mildly amused.

She was still battling with herself on her opinions of Lady Targaryen. She knew how she felt about the king - but Sintara seemed genuinely different. As though she really wanted what was best. But how could anyone really know? Ravenna didn't know anything about Sintara - she saw what was on the outside, and she couldn't even come to a real conclusion on that. She had more to say, but there was the distance sound of feet rushing back and forth come from inside the Red Keep.

* * *

 **This is a bit of a boring chapter, so I'll** putting **up a second one today. Moving onto the Starks imprisonment and Sintara's "act of treason" in the next chapter.  
**


	6. Treason

The heiress continued to play with her dragon as Ravenna spoke. The lavender-hued eyes glanced over to the Stark and met her darker orbs with a leveled gaze. The Stark had already earned favor with the Targaryen as the truth slipped off her tongue. It was hard to find honest people in this day and age, but then again she expected nothing more than that from a Stark. What was asked for was not something she could easily give. She could not count the number of times a House looked to her or her mother take care of her father's wrath.

"No one wishes for war or bloodshed, save perhaps the Lannisters and the mad." She muttered softly to herself yet raised it to be heard. "What you ask for several Houses have asked in numerous different ways. They see my father is slipping rather quickly. You're the first to ask outright, although I doubt you would have said anything if I had not told you. I will tell you the same thing I have told all who request any help. Until I sit on the throne I can offer no true protection, I will try and vouch for your house, but don't expect me to jump into the seven hells and back for you. I can only go so far when it comes to defying a mad king. I can not guarantee true safety until the throne is mine."

Sintara has lost count on how many times she had said this to them. Just because she was the heiress did not save or have any sway on a Madman.

"Friendship is not something possible when you're the next to sit on the Iron Throne. When I was younger I thought I had friends, but it turned out not to be." She grimaced at the appalling memories of her childhood. "I have learned that over years everyone wants something from me. My father wants my obedience, my mother wants me to be her perfect daughter and the houses wants my favor or my demise.

I am showered with gifts, false acts of affection, and friendship and have been for years all in hopes to gain something from me. The moment you spoke to me was the moment I knew you wanted something from me. No one simply wants to be friends for the sake of it not with me anyway. No one but him of course." She pointed to Balerion as he finished whatever it was he had been eating and took to laying down on the ground.

"So I have no knack of knowing what others want nor were you obvious in your intentions. It has simply become habitual to know that something is wanted from me the moment words leave another's lips." She answered as she swung her legs over the side of the bench and fully sat up. She was being blunt again she knew, but she has asked and the heiress had answered.

Sinatra found the Stark rather unusual, she couldn't remember holding a conversation this long with anyone in some time. Ravenna appeared to have one of those noble hearts, the one you read about in a storybook. She seemed to genuinely listen to what Sinatra said, and thankful wasn't constantly praising her on her anything and everything.

"You Starks are unique." She commented absentmindedly. She shifted fully sitting straighter and tilting her head in a questioning manner. Her muscles became tensed as she rose to her feet and dusted off her gown and leather. Balerion had gone from relaxed to as tensed and poised as a viper once he heard the shuffling. She figured they should most likely head back inside, it was funny how time slipped away these days. She was ready to say so to Ravenna when the common sound of armor clanking together obtained her thoughts. Knights?

" _Mīsagon"_ The uncommon tongue had Balerion's fully attention. It was rare to hear the dead language of High Valyrian, but he always understood it was not a time to be ignorant. The dragon paced ahead of both ladies moving around five feet in front of them.

Two knights of the King's Guard appeared around the corner seconds later, one had his hand on his sword as soon as he saw Balerion. The dragon curled his lip over his fangs as the frills on the back of his neck lifted in warning. The second Knight was an older man but highly respected by all who knew him including the platinum blonde who was looking at him with open weariness. He didn't appear too pleased with whatever task he had placed upon him.

"Lord Commander Gerold." Sintara greeted the Lord Commander of the King's Guard with a calming yet puzzled tone.

"Princess, I ask for forgiveness for intruding but-" The sharp snap of teeth followed by a stream of smoke from the nostrils warned the Knights to remain where he was. The older man has had years of experience with the Targaryen dragons, enough so he appeared to know not to test the black beast named after the dragon who had conquered the land hundreds of years before. "The King, he has order the immediate imprisonment of the members of the Stark House and Umber House."

That managed to make the Heiress lose her poised air. "What?! Both Houses. Why in the Seven Hells is he imprisoning them?!" The man flinched as he got a taste of the infamous Targaryen rage.

"I can not properly say, Princess, I have my order you will have to speak to your Lady Mother." He answered, yet remained where he was seeing as Balerion kept hissing at both Knights. "If you would call him off. Ravenna Stark will be needing to coming with us." Sintara knew her father was mad, but this was utter insanity.

"I want to speak to my father, now," Sintara demanded in a low tone that was hard to ignore. Ser Gerold didn't budge from his place nor did he back down. Instead, the man tried to compromise with the young dragon.

"I will take you to your father, but Lady Stark must go with Ser Arthur and if you would call off Balerion." He nodded in the direction of the second knight while looking at Balerion.

" _Ilagon_ Balerion." Begrudgingly the dragon back down allowing Ser Arthur save passage. Sintara heard a few choice words coming from Ravenna behind her, but she was already following after the Lord Commander and so did not catch them. She didn't bother wondering what was running through the Stark's mind, she didn't have time to care if she was hurt by her just leaving like that. No, she had more important things worry about over some wolf's pup's thoughts about her.

Balerion kept so close to her that she tripped several times over one of his legs or tail. It didn't appear how she commanded him the dragon wouldn't move more than a foot from her side. The group made their way back to the Great Hall and almost at once she was assaulted by booming voices and the sound of swords being drawn. There were guards everywhere and the remaining knights had drawn a tight line in between the king and the guests.

Near the center of the room, there was a large man being held down by several knights with swords at his throat. A second man was being forced to kneel on the ground, it looked as he had been struck with something and was dripping blood from the left of his head. It appeared both Heads of the Houses were being called forth and it didn't look to be going well from the way Jon Umber was struggling and the grim expression on Rickard Stark's face. The King stood on the dais looking down at both men with an unrestrained look of pure insanity.

"Father!" Sintara let out a shrill shout as she moved around chairs and guards in her path. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard waved his men out of the way as the princess stepped up onto the dais. "I don't understand why are they being imprisoned? What crime have they committed?" The man clearly didn't like being questioned as he turned his unfocused eyes onto her.

She had to stifle the urge to merely beg forgiveness for speaking out of turn and running to hide behind her mother's skirts(wherever Rhaella was). The only reason she stood her ground was because of the hissing hatchling at her side. Balerion was her courage, and it appeared that her father took notice of that as well.

"Seize the beast." The order was directed to the kingsguard for they moved into action at once. It wasn't the first time these men were ordered to take Balerion from her. They knew what they were doing, binding his muzzle and grabbing his tail before he could spew fire or lash out at them. Even his wings were of little use to him as he was picked up from the ground and constricted in a backward bearhug.

"Stop that! He hasn't done an-AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Pain blistered through her scalp as a hand and very long claw-like nails tugged at her hair and threw her head backward.

"You want to stand against me! Your own flesh and blood for dogs! You would be nothing without me." She tried not to breath into deeply or she was sure she'd vomit from the rancid breath.

"You're mad! I hope you died and burn in all seven hells." The fear for her dragon and the mixture of adrenaline made her a little stupid, but there was no taking back her words now. "I would rather stand with the dogs over you any day." Sintara winced as she felt the grip on her hair tighten to a point she thought it would be ripped out of her head. She was forced to walk as he began dragging her through the room, despite being so frail looking the king's hold was strong. She was pulled by her hair towards the two other two men.

"Fine, you want to be a dog. Then I'll treat you like one. Gerold your sword." The Lord Commander hesitated for only a second before pulling out his sword and handed it to him.

The king took the blade in his free hand and point it at her neck, drawing back before swinging it. Sintara was expecting to feel a sharp pain, however, she found the pain in her forehead as her face collided with the floor. Her head felt lighter as long locks of her hair tumbled to the ground around her. "Get them out of my sight. Throw them into the Black Cells." He order the Knights, she felt a strong arm lifting her to her feet. She was a little bit disorientated from the way her head had creaked against the floor.

"What of the dragon, Sire?"

"Kill it, I have the female."

She was with it enough to hear that and quickly began struggling against her captor.

"NO! STOP! BALERION!" She screamed and shouted and shouted as she was dragged out of the room. It went on and on until a new amount of agony split through her head and her world went black.

* * *

No Ravenna in this chapter because I'm tired. She'll start off in the next one.


	7. Queen Rhaella

Ravenna heard the clanking of armor, and within moments she was climbing to her feet, brushing off her dress even though there was no residue. Ravenna kept fairly close to the silver-haired woman, watching intently and listening just as closely as the knight approached. At first, Ravenna's feelings were nothing more than curiosity. And then, by the tone of the older gentleman's voice, she realized something was wrong.

She had seen the tip of the ice-burg in regards to the mad king's madness, but she hadn't really expected what would follow. When she heard what the knight said about her family, she couldn't help the quiet gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes wide, her body stiffened. What? Imprisonment? She was surprised, and this feeling seemed to block, for a moment, all her other feelings.

She numbly heard Sintara's words, though they meant little to her. She herself had stated earlier that there was little protection she could provide, and little she could do. She did not look for hope where there could be done.

"No... No, you can't. We haven't done anything!" She said suddenly, shaking her head when the knight said she must go with him.

She couldn't. Her family - no, this couldn't be. Imprisonment! The word kept ringing in her head, and she wasn't sure if this meant a quick death or a slow one, where'd she rot in a dirty cell until the end of her days. And her family? The thought of her mother and father in a cell made her heart beat hard and fast.

"Your king is mad! All of you know it! No good will come of this." she hissed the latter bit, eyes narrowed in defiance.

But she knew that attempting to flee would be futile. This was the Targaryen's territory; this was their home, their land. She would not make it through the many halls of king's landing, she would not escape. And even if she could, she wouldn't leave her family. Her teeth clenched, and all she could do was glare in anger. Raging would not help this situation - in fact, it would only make things worse.

"You follow the madman, obey him, even though you know it will bring nothing more than bloodshed." Her words were pointless, but it was her attempt to delay the inevitable.

A voice was screaming in the back of her mind at her, telling her this was all useless and that it was better if she just handed herself over. Her attention turned into the heiress's direction when the older girl took to leaving her to her own fate. She knew that there was little point in place much hope in Sintara, but some words of reassurance would have been nice.

As the older man, the heiress, and the dragon left Ravenna couldn't help but admit that she felt very vulnerable and exposed without them. She turned to the remaining knight, he was younger and rather handsome when she looked at long enough. However, that did little ease the tension within her body. "For the sake kingdom, I hope the time of the princess's coronation comes swiftly." She murmured in an honest tone.

She took a deep breath, slowly crossing the threshold to the knight, ready to be taken in imprisonment. "If the mad king lives much longer, I fear there won't be much of a kingdom left to rule. All the houses will be dead or nearly so," She stated darkly, frowning. She provided no resistance now, though the defiant anger still burned in her dark gaze.

It looked as if the Knight had some choice words of his own, but a snow colored dragon made her way over to them. Sunfyre let out a yelp like roar in greeting as a beautiful woman walked up from the shadow. Instinctively, Ravenna stepped away from the white creature. It was just as frightening as it was magnificent.

The young Lady Stark cast a glance at the knight and then moved her gaze to the beautiful woman who stepped swiftly from the shadows. Her highness looked troubled, rightfully so, and when she spoke Ravenna's stomach flipped.

"There you are you." The Queen's chest rose up and down in a quick rhythm, the pink tint in her cheeks said she had been moving rather swiftly to find her. The Queen walked past Ser Arthur and to Ravenna's side.

"Don't say anything I will explain along the way." She whispered lowly before turning her attention to Ser Arthur. "Lady Stark is to come with me. I have some business to attend with her." The woman spoke with such confidence and assurance that it was hard to use was lying beside the light shake in her hands.

"My King order all the Starks and-" The man started but did not finish as the Queen cast an entrancing smile at him.

"I know what his orders were. This will only take a moment and then you can have her back." Rhaella promised while reaching out and gripping Ravenna's hand in a vice grip.

"Of course my Queen. I shall esco-" Once again she cut him off clearly in a hurry.

"No need Sunfyre will accompany us." The usually playful and adventure beast was standing at attention looking oddly serious for once. "Besides you have a duty to carry out we don't want to take you away from that." The smile was strained but as lovely as always.

She didn't wait for a respond for she began pulled Ravenna after her out of the garden. " _Mīsagon"_ Sunfyre dart ahead and padded on ahead to guard at the order. Ravenna kept up with the swift pace, accustomed to hurried walks and such. Living up in the North wasn't an easy stroll through a garden, and keeping pace with a queen was easy. It was her highness's urgency that unsettled Ravenna.

Ravenna remained silent uncertain what she should say to the queen or where she was being taken. Sintara said she couldn't guarantee her safety but would try. Perhaps if she pleaded with the Queen, with two of them on her side maybe it would sway the king. It was a long shot really and a wolf was not without its pride. Yet unlike the dragons, the wolves understood that having pride doesn't count for much if you're dead.

She was willing to go great lengths if it ensured the safety of her house. She was just about ready to open her mouth to say something when Rhaella let go of her wrist as she began walking down a corridor unknown to the Stark.

"It leads to my private chambers," Rhaella muttered before turning to Ravenna, she had been rather ignorant on her part worrying about this pup before her own hatchling. She tried hard not to worry about Sintara, one task at a time "Your father was already taken before I could do much about it. Your Lady Mother should be inside. I told my ladies in waiting to fetch her." She sighed looking exceptionally exhausted.

"Sunfyre, _Umbagon."_ The dragon grunted her agreement as Rhaella pushed the girl inside the room.

When the Queen stopped suddenly and turned to face Ravenna, the young woman's eyes widened. What would the queen want to say to her? As news of her father comprehended, she felt her heart clench and fear sink in. But when she heard her mother was in the next room, tears of relief threatened to spring forth.

She straightened up, giving the queen a firm nod in acknowledgment. When she was pushed into the room, her eyes almost instantly found her mother. The woman was older, yes, but she was aging well. Her skin was paled, making her naturally dark hair seem even darker, like the blackest night without stars or moonlight. Her eyes stood out; a bright, icy blue.

They were orbs filled with so many emotions that it made Ravenna feel drained and saddened. The older woman, known as Lyarra, stood swiftly, arms opening wide. Ravenna wasted no time in crossing the room to wrap her arms around her petite mother, holding her close. They were silent for a moment.

"Oh, my daughter," Lyarra whispered, her voice trembling.

She pulled away for a moment, holding Ravenna at arm's length to look at her. She was silent for a long moment before turning her blue gaze to the queen. They softened now. Any animosity that Lyarra had once held towards the Targaryens had faded in this moment. Rhaella was helping her, was betraying the wishes of the king, and words could not describe the gratefulness Lady Stark held. But now was a moment of action. There wasn't time to cry and grieve and be fearful. Now was a time to move - it was their only chance of making it out. Lyarra still looked to the queen.

"After what you've done for me already, it is unfair of me to ask this. I will take whatever punishment the king so orders, if only you save my daughter." her eyes were pleading, but she stood tall and firm. She was a lady first and foremost, after all.

The woman gave a very heartwarming smile at the other woman's words, one of only reserved for her daughter. She waved the woman's words off while adding some of her own. "I know what it is like to have a child, and I will do what I can for her." She promised with a distant look in her lavender eyes. She gave a soft shake of her head to rid herself an unwanted memory. They had to be swift if this was going to work. "

Do listen well for I don't have time to repeat myself."

The Queen told the two Starks with a new amount of determination. "My King found letters in your Lord Husband chambers. Letters that spoke of overthrowing him. They were addressed to several different houses, however, the responses were not found with them." The Queen held up a hand before the youngest Stark could speak out.

"I can assure you that Lord Rickard will not be killed immediately, not until King Aerys finds who else was involved. I can not say how long he will have. But until then I have something you must do. I can help you flee from King's Land and to Winterfell. But in return, I must ask you gather your bannermen and any allies you might have and convince them to march on King's Landing. I can assure you that you will not be met with resistance from the Lannister Lions." Rhaella ignored the expressions upon their faces and continued on with her last request. "Above all I need to take my daughter and her dragon with you to the North."


	8. Farewell

Slowly rising from the depths of oblivion, feeling returning to her fingers and toes, she grunted, rolled over and curled up more tightly, hugging her knees between her arms. Something about the atmosphere surrounding her didn't seem right, so cautiously opening one eye she quickly scanned the area everything was dark? Did she have her eye open?

Awareness came in a flash, this was not within her comfort zone, this was strange and in some ways frightening. What had happened - how had she gotten here - where was here - why were she...? So many thoughts scrambled themselves to the surface in such a panic that a thin film of perspiration began to form on her brow and upper lip.

Fear was setting in and there was nothing she could do to stop it, no comforting words or thoughts, nothing reassuring came to mind. Sintara slowly pushed herself to her feets, a wave of dizziness hit her in her gut and made her want to sit back down but she kept her balance.

Her hands were trembling nonstop so moving was a little difficult. She reached the shaky hands upwards towards her face as pressed numb fingers against her cheek. A shard of pain sparked in her lower jaw, and near her temple, a pounding agony erupted as soon as her fingers brushed against it. It trigged a rather terrible headache, the pain throbbed so violently around her skull that she wondered why it didn't just crack open.

She couldn't remember what happened to her head, all that matter, at the moment, was the pain and the darkness. It was pitch black in this cell. In the darkness, the whole world could have blown away in a freak storm. She could smell the earth as if it's wiped clean as if all life is gone. Her feet were bare, that's the only reason she knew the ground is still there.

Everything else has dissolved like it was never there at all, like the universe hasn't even begun, or perhaps it never was. In the darkness, She couldn't get a sense that anything is important at all – life, death, pain. The blackness swiftly engulfed her thoughts. Stretching out in front of her like a map, the unknown studied her fears, her courage, and her knowledge.

The darkness had overcome any sense of purity, consumed all hope of cleanliness and had wiped out all desire. Without light, there was also no heat, not exactly a coldness but more a lack of warmth, all her senses could latch onto was the quiet echo of her footfalls and the rapid beating of her own heart. She's never been alone before or swimming in a pool of complete darkness either.

"Settle Princess, if you keep breathing like that you'll pass out." A gentle, low tenor voice barely audible came from...well somewhere. It had Sintara's heart clenching with fear instead of calmness. She couldn't see anyone or thing, nothing but black. It was hard to tell if the voice was really there or something in her head.

"She ain't a Princess anymore, Rickard." The second voice was much deeper than the first and tired as if the fight went out of him.

Sintara's memory slowly caught up with her racing mind as the name Rickard caught her attention, the events of earlier played back in her mind's eye. She was in the Black Cells, her father having thrown her in here. As she finally got a sense of awareness a touch of tranquility washed over her. She slowly moved around, much like a blind person as she worked her way over to something more solid.

A wall, once she felt it she was no longer floating in emptiness she took a seat and leaned all her weight against it. She forced herself to take in deep breaths and exhale slowly as her heartbeat calmed with each breath. There was a silence that ate up the space around her. She disliked the silence more than the darkness, it screamed far too loudly.

"What do you mean I am not a princess anymore?" She questioned, it hurt to speak it felt like she had razors in her throat.

Just how long as she been down here? There was a long pause where silence sat idly in between. It grew so long that she began to doubt herself, had the voices just been in her head. Her hands found the hem of her dress as she wrapped her fingers around the fabric and tugged at it. She was ready to ask again, louder even if it made her throat hurt. It was frightening to think that she really was stuck here alone, terrifying really.

She longed for heat and the company Balerion always provided, she's never understood how much she had taken him for granted until he was gone.

"You spoke against the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, girly. You have one of the biggest set of balls I've ever seen. But you're going to die. Either by beheading or rotting in this shithole. You're no better nor worse than the rest of us. You ain't no princess." The voice was blunt and straight to the point, nothing softening the blow.

However, if those words were intended to upset her it had the opposite effect. It started off as a bounce in her chest, then a giggle, and finally turned into full blown laughter. She could care less what the voices thought of her she couldn't help but find it funny.

"I am sorry, but I couldn't help but find that humorous. You are one of the first who have spoken to me so plainly, and only to do so when you believe death is hanging over him." She muttered, flinching inwardly as her throat cringed due to the stress placed on it.

"You're right to a point. But your wrong as well. I am not going to die, the gods won't allow it. For years I have been wondering out of everyone in the world why was it me who was placed as this heir to a throne I don't even want. Why couldn't mother have any more children? Why did I have to be the child of the Mad King?! But then I had a dream and it all became clear to me, the gods made it clear.

They weren't doing this to punish me, but to help me. I am here to make my House great again, above all, I am here to become a worthy monarchy to the Seven Kingdoms. The gods have shown this to me, I can not die not yet. I have too big a burden on my shoulders. This is just another trial that I must face before I can even be deemed as worthy for the Kingdoms. They'll try to break me down, destroy me piece by piece. But I have made a vow, I will survive. We're players in a game that I don't intend to lose." She answered with blind conviction about her place.

She was born to not just make history, but to rewrite it. She was expecting the laughter that followed after her words. It boomed like thunder, unpleasant and loud, in the cell beyond her own. This was one of the reasons she never spoke of her thoughts out loud, everyone was a critic.

"You will make a great Queen, Sintara Targaryen, one that will inspire those to come." Sintara turned her head in the direction she thought those words came from.

A small smile frame her lips, the Starks always had to be the noble good guys huh. A flash of light suddenly appeared under what she assumed was the door to the Black Cell she was in. It burned brightly within the darkness and captured her attention. There were hush voices beyond the door before it was yanked open with a high pitched groaned. A torch was thrust through the opening and with it a familiar face. Sintara could have cried as she pushed herself to her feet and rushed into open arms.

"Mother!" The woman embraced her daughter with one arm with a sigh of relief.

The tearful reunion was cut short as Rhaella pulled away from Sintara and reached for her hand. She said nothing as she began yanking her daughter through the corridor. Sintara followed her while looking over her shoulder but saw nothing but darkness as the light got quickly devoured by the shadows. The royal pair remained silenced for most of the walk, always surrounded by darkness until they hit a door.

Rhaella pulled it open and pushed her inside it. It was much lighter inside and several torches sat on the walls, casting an eerie glow in the room. There was nothing in the room, nothing but a man who was currently on his back with a black beast standing on top of him and a white beast sitting and watching. The man looked about ready to piss himself, though he was little concern to Sintara. She was more focused on the scaled reptile.

"Balerion!" The young dragon paused in trying to take a chunk out of the man and turned to look at Sintara.

He parted his maw and let out some sort of trill while jumping from the man's chest, his short legs carried him as quickly as they could to the blonde who bent pet his head while avoiding the horns and spikes upon his body. There were chains hanging loosely around Baleiron's legs and a much longer and heavier one around his neck.

"Lord Varys, I am quite sure that I told you that even a chained dragon is dangerous." The Queen spoke up as she walked into the room, admiring the loyalty between her daughter and her dragon.

The woman's purple eyes turned back to the fat man as he regained his balance and got his footing back. Sintara stiffened as she heard that name, the man was plump, bald, and dressed in silk of a rather bright color. The Master of Whisperers was not a man that Sintara liked let alone trusted. She often made that known to Balerion, who although didn't understand every word that came from her mouth understood enough.

It was no wonder he tried to maul him. The young Targaryen tossed and accusing look to the queen who ignored her. The bald man looked as if he had something to say but Rhaella was already speaking again.

"Sintara, we don't have much time. You are to go with Lord Varys, he will take you out of Red Keep safely. You will meet with the Starks who will take you to Winterfell with them. If all goes as planned you shall be sitting on the Iron Throne before you next nameday." The woman didn't bother allowing the girl to get a word in at all. The vacant stare that was give said Sintara wouldn't be getting a choose in the matter. The woman's mind was set and that was that.

"You're coming with right?" Before any tears could be spilled the woman reached out with a gentle hand to press it against her daughter's check careful of the bruise near the girl's eye. She leaned down to press her forehead against the girl's and let out a deep pent-up sigh. The Queen's eyes shone with so many mixed emotions as they peered deeply into the watery ones of her child.

"My sweet sweet Hatchling, you already know the answer to that question. The power of love bestows responsibilities, but not rights. I have no right to your heart but am blessed to love you with my own. I have no right to your time but am honored to share moments. It is for me to do what is best for you, and not seek fulfillment of my own desires at an expense to your wellbeing.

It is for me to seek what would make you happy, what would be best for your soul. One day you will understand this love when you find the one who is as important to you as you are to me. Just remember that dragons don't shed tears they breathe fire, Balerion will be with you through it all. You are not alone. Sunfyre and I will be waiting for your return. We'll go flying just like we always said we would. This is not goodbye, my beloved Hatchling, not forever." The woman forced a smile while resting a kiss on her forehead.

She gave Sintara a push away from her while Balerion finished saying goodbye to Sunfyre. Rhaella called Sunfyre to her side and without losing her smile turned her back on her only child and walked towards the door. To look back would end her, so she pulled the door open and walked out with Sunfyre beside her, leaving their hearts in the room behind them.


	9. The sword of Morning

It was cooler, not exactly cold but cooler than it had been when she had arrived. Ravenna was following behind her mother, both wore simple plain cloaks with their hoods drawn over their heads as they wandered down unknown streets filled with lowborn citizens. There was a heavy smell of fish in the air among other disgusting smells that had her holding her breath for as long as she could. Eventually, her lungs would scream for air and she'd be forced to take in another breath of rancid air. Lady Lyarra Stark had a firm grasp on her daughter's hand and the other wrapped around the reins of an old mud colored gelding who walked beside her. Ravenna had her free hand on the reins of a three-year-old Garron mare who had a coat of shadows. Flicka and Dusty didn't seem to bother by the increasing amount of people wandering past them and moved as their riders directed. Ravenna was filled with a lot of emotions, fear, anger, sadness, guilt and more.

The storm color eyes turned in her mother's direction, the woman wasn't looking at her so her hood hid her features and emotions from the girl. Most of the younger Stark's burning anger was directed her Lady Mother. She still couldn't believe that her mother had agreed to take the Targaryen Heir as a ward in the North and to help ransack King's Landing. It wasn't all of that that really bothered her, no it was the fact that they were leaving father behind to rescue the daughter of the man who had imprisoned him in the first place. Ravenna was well aware that she was misplacing her anger and directed it on the easiest targets, but at the moment she didn't care. They were leaving King's Landing without the Lord of Winterfell, without her father.

"This way." The husky voice with a slight accent claimed her attention as she lifted her eyes towards their guide.

Ser Arthur Dayne looked very little like the Knight she had met earlier. He had exchanged his armor for something much plainer, wearing leather breeches, a tight tunic was confined at the waist with a belt where two intimidating long swords hung in sheaths, a hood cape concealed his weapons and the hood was drawn over his head like their own. The leather boots and now shaved face finished up the attire. He looked much younger with his face cleanly cut, more like a boy than a man still quite handsome, though. She swiftly pushed those thoughts out of her head and followed as her mother began tugging her after the Knight as he led them towards the docks.

The scent of the sea grew stronger and stronger as they got closer to it. She stopped behind her mother as the man waved them to wait. They stood slightly to the side as people walked passed them, not even sparing them a glance as they did so. Ser Arthur slipped out of her sight, mildly alarming her he wouldn't leave them here, would he? She had no clue where they were right now, and seeing as this was her mother's first time in King's Landing she doubted she could rely on her to get them out of her.

"You think I made the wrong choice don't you?" Ravenna's head snapped to the right as her mother finally said something.

The silence between them had been getting awkward and stressful. As the question finally reached her brain she yanked her hand from her mother's grasp and scowled at her. She didn't exactly want to talk about this right now, but if they didn't get this off their chest now Raveena knew that letting it sit would only cause trouble later on.

"The Queen's plan in ludicrous and will get the House of Stark killed, mother. I can not just go along with it. And what about Father? We're just leaving him to fend for himself while we go hide in Winterfell and pray to the Old Gods that everything will turn out alright. We should never have come here! If-" A small but firm hand clasped her shoulder and pulled her into an embrace.

"Don't cry, pup. I know everything seems like its falling apart, but it will be okay. Your father is stronger then you know, he is a man of winter. We will see him again. Ravenna, Winter is here. This one particularly fierce and strong, but keep in mind that we are Starks. We've survived for a thousand years and we'll survive for a thousand more." Lyarra soothed her daughter trouble mind as best she could. "You are a She-Wolf of the North. Don't let this break you."

The scream sounds like it's coming from all around them, it howls like venom a paralyzing promise. Ravenna wrenches herself away from her mother to look ahead of them. There's a stallion, a monstrous sized stallion with a bright ginger colored coat. It was running off a ship in the docks, down the plank and straight into the crowded area. He trampled and kicked at anything or one in his path, he charged around recklessly drawing closer and closer to the Starks at an alarming speed.

Ravenna felt Flicka pulling at her reins and jerking her off balance as she reached up and grasped them. Mother was dealing with a similar problem with the usually docile Dusty. As the stallion bore down on them Ser Arthur appeared, placing himself in between the raging stallion and the others. To Ravenna's pure shock the stallion doesn't trample or lash out at the man. Instead, he rears up on his back legs, slams his hoofs into the ground and settled down as Ser Arthur reaches out a hand and talks the crazed beast down. It takes about five minutes for everything to be cleared up as some of the sailors and a captain along with the civilians talk to the Knight. After tossing some coins around everything is sorted out and the man is bringing the huge horse over to them. Ravenna quickly shies away from the creatures drawing a nervous Flicka with her, her mother mimicking her. Ser Arthur looks pleased about something as he pats the stallion's cheek.

"This is Imperial, Imp for short. He's a Bastard or rather a hybrid would be a better term. He's four years of age, temperaments a little wildly, but if you treat him right he'll treat you right. He'll be coming to the North with us." He informed them, obviously happy with be reunited with his stallion.

The beast looked like it wanted to maim someone. She wanted to ask the Knight if he was jesting or not, but the man was already leading the stallion through the crowd, which parted like the red sea and began to moving without waiting for them. "We best hurry, the Goldcloaks will be coming soon to learn of the disturbance." Ravenna looked over to her mother who without a second thought, tugged Dusty after the man and his crimson stallion. She, reluctantly, followed after the older pair. He led them all over King's Landing just for a horse? A crazy horse at that. They should have been out of King's Landing a while ago.

Ravenna did her best to keep her negative thoughts to herself. Ser Arthur led them through several more turns and passages in the area, and she noticed that less and less people were beginning to show up. The smell had grown worse, making her want to dry heave. There were a few passing drunkards...or maybe they were just people that slept on the ground? Where ever they were this was certainly the slums of King's Landing. Ser Arthur made them stop once more at a house.

Ravenna was quite frankly getting quite fed up with this but was doing a good job of holding her tongue. There he knocked rather oddly on the door and waiting. It opened revealing a rather heavyset man dressed in clothing that did not fit this part of the area. It looked like silks as he stepped into the moonlight. They exchanged brief words and Ser Arthur entered the house as the heavy man walked over to her and her mother. Lyarra stepped slightly ahead of her and gave a frigid nod.

"So you are the Starks that the Queen has entrusted the Princess too." The man sounded like he already knew them. Ravenna had to stare at him for a second longer before recalling where she had heard his description before. He was the called the Spider, a Master of Whisperers. There were stories here and there about the man. Ravenna didn't see a spider she saw a rat. The three of them turned simultaneously as Ser Aruther reappeared carrying someone with him. The black cloak was drawn tightly around the figure and the hood lifted concealing the face. He walked over to the red stallion and hoisted the body up onto his saddle, and swung on behind quickly.

"Where is the Beast?" Ser Arthur had been looking at Varys as he asked that. He was gruffer and shorter with the man then he had been with the Starks.

"She sent him off with the belongings, he'll follow out of sight." Varys assured him while he turned back to the Starks. He didn't say anything, just watched them for a moment before returning to the house.

"Mount, we need to move quickly." There was a new urgency in his voice and movements that had both Starks quickly jumping into the saddles of their horses. Ser Arthur had kicked his stallion into a swift trot and was moving rapidly down the streets, the trot had them snapping the reins to get Flicka and Dusty into a gallop, the Imp was fast much faster then a normal horse. It didn't take them to long to figure out why they needed hurry. The sound of several hoofs coming up the streets alarmed them. Ravenna glanced behind her, noticing the horses in the distances there weren't too many but enough to bother her.  
Goldcloaks.

* * *

I've had writer's block for these last chapters if you haven't noticed. This one I feel is kinda of a dull, but will be getting better as I figure what's going on. Ravenna, for some reason, is harder for me to write for. I was going to put in a fighting scene here, but then I dropped it so it will be in the next the chapter...I think.


	10. Lost

As she rouses from a heavy slumber she is first aware of the coolness of the air and its loamy fragrance. The ground is lumpy as if she were on a bed of earth and rocks. Her clothes feel as damp as a flower in the dew of the dawn. She half wondered if she was still dreaming as she sat up to take in the shafts of light that burst through the gaps in the leaf canopy above. Now Sintara is awake, perhaps more fully awake than she's ever been. There are no paths around her and no sign of another person. As far as she could tell she was alone with the birds who make their carefree song around her, and in that sweet melody she feels more alone. This bizarre dream is her's alone. The lavender orbs wandered once more before Sintara pushed herself to her feet, shivering slightly due to the dampness of her attire. She does not move, merely observing for a few heartbeats longer as a sense of deja vu hit her rather hard. This was the second time she's woken up without any sense of what in the world was going on.

At least it was not dark out. She was tempted to wander, but unsure if that was wise. She's never been out in the open on her own before and she was well aware of her terrible sense of direction. The last thing she could recall was leaving the tunnels of the Redkeep with the fat man and him bringing her to a house, she faintly recalled the sense of being tired and depressed and drifting off as Balerion— Oh!

"Balerion!" Her brother was often by her side rarely leaving her. She highly doubted he'd just leave her here in a strange place like this. He always heard when she called. "Balerion! If you're playing a game this is not any fun." She forced more air into her lungs to project her voice louder.

She picked up her skirts and pulled the hood up on her head. It was only after taking a few steps did she noticed that whatever she was wearing was not the right size. The bodice for starters was much too tight, she was wearing a plain white shift dress underneath it, but her breasts and lungs felt like they were bound by a corset. The dress itself was a plain black and white that clung somewhat tightly in the torso and loosen into the skirt that was much too long for her legs. Whoever had dressed her must of been in a hurry and clearly had not measured her correctly at all.

She was very tempted to cut the strings of the lace bodice and server a couple inches from the bottom of the dress. After she found her brother of course. She had to bend down and bunch the fabric into her hands to keep from stepping constantly on the bottom. She continued her trek into the unknown unaware of the trouble she'd be getting herself into.

She walked straight for a good fifteen minutes before she noticed the barking, it was some distance off but she was sure that she heard the sound of dogs barking loud and clear as it bounced off the trees and slipped through the air. Her curiosity overrode her logic as she moved towards the sound instead of away. She didn't get farther than six steps before she felt a hand slap roughly over her mouth and something cold and sharp pressed against her neck. On instincts more than anything, she found her teeth sinking down deeply into flesh. Her captor must have gotten shocked because suddenly a spark of pain touched the nerves in her neck and she felt something warm dripping down her collarbone.

The blade was pulled away and Sintara took the chance to put some distance between them and whipped around to see who had dared put a blade to her neck. Much to her astonishment, her former captor had thick black locks tumbling down her shoulders, the pointer finger was pressed against pale, dry lips, and the eyes were a stormy grey with emotions in them that were nearly impossible for her to read.

"You bit me!" Ravenna Stark was in disbelief. The heiress to the Iron Throne had bitten her like some wild animal.

"Well, what do you expect would happen? You can't just go around grabbing people and holding daggers to their throat. You might really hurt someone." Sintara interjected while reached up pale fingers to brush against the stinging cut.

Thankfully it only appeared to of grazed her, the blood was already beginning to clot. She wiped the blood caught on her fingers onto her skirt, ready to ask what was going on when cool fingers brushed lightly against her chin pushing it upward. A hot breath of air wafted against the lower part of her neck and tickled her collarbone, she found herself clenching her hands against her side to keep from pushing Ravenna's hand away as the taller female leaned down to inspect her handiwork. Even if it was an accident, Ravenna felt a touch of guilt rising up in her chest for harming the blonde. It was a clean cut, more of a nick than a cut and it looked like it had stopped bleeding already. The relive she felt as she found that she hadn't hurt Sintara all the much was immense.

"It's not deep at all and already stopped bleeding, if we keep it clean it shouldn't get infected." Ravenna was failing to notice the effect her close proximity was having on the Targaryen.

The Stark hadn't pulled away as she explained what should be done about the nick, although after the mild shiver that coursed through Sintara's body did she finally take notice of how close she as to the heiress and how improper it was.

"I'm sorry." Ravenna wasn't exactly sure what she was apologizing for, the injury or the invasion of personal space, but she was more focused on cooling the blush that was creeping up her neck and staining her cheeks. They might have stood there in an awkward silence for several more seconds if not for the barking. It was louder and closer than it had been before. Sintara snapped out of it first as curiosity quickly grew within her eyes once again.

"Why are there dogs? Where are we?" Sintara's questions when unanswered as Ravenna went about initiating unwanted physical contact again, she slipped her larger hand into Sintara's smaller one and yanked the heiress along with her.

Ravenna did her best to ignore how much softer and smaller the older girl's hand was, while she slipped her dagger into her bodice again, hiking up her skirt and began running. Sintara found herself almost face planting as she barely had time to grab her own skirt and run behind the Stark. The lengthier legged wolf was faster than the elfin legged dragon, but she managed to keep up with a lot of help from Ravenna.

"Ser Arthur, he took us from King's Landing yesterday. We were pursued by Goldcloaks throughout the night but managed to evade them since this morning. They caught up with us, Ser Arthur gave you to my mother before heading off to lead them away. My mother, being the wolf she is, left you with me and went off to help Ser Arthur. I had left you sleeping in that grove and went to fetch water in the creek nearby, that's when I heard the bark and ran into you." Ravenna explained as best she could while sprinting through the forest.

She slowed down, noting how out of breath Sintara seemed to be, as they reached grove. What she had been expecting to find there was no longer there. "Flicka! My horse I left her tethered to the branch right—" She broke off her sentence as she found the branch the horse had been tied to was broken. The horse was notorious for fleeing and going whenever she pleased, Ravenna usually loved the spirit in her horse, but today wasn't a day for escaping and doing as she pleased. She let go of Sintara's hand to holler for Flicka, begging the gods that she'd come. However, Sintara was already snatching her hand back and this time was pulling Ravenna.

"No time we need to keep moving."

Sintara's never been bitten by a dog before and didn't want to anytime soon. Ravenna easily overtook her again and was in the lead. Sintara allowed the girl to tug her most of the way as she made the mistake of glancing behind them. She could see them, hounds bolting through the forest after them. They were different shades of color but hounds all the same.

The Targaryen was finding that she as not made for running long distances, her heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest and her lungs were starting to burn despite how fast she was panting. The trees blurred around them as they ran, but to Sintara it didn't seem like they were getting any farther from the howling and yapping dogs.

"They're getting closer, we need to move faster Sintara," Ravenna called as she peered over her shoulder at the blonde.

She felt like she was dragging a ton of rocks around the way the shorter girl kept dragging her feet. Even though the heiress appeared rather thin and had a decent amount of muscle build, it was clear that this much running was too much for her. Ravenna admitted to being a little winded but she could keep going if it kept them from getting killed by dogs. Sintara, on the other hand, looked ready to pass out or throw up. She kept tripping and was no longer bothering to keeping from stepping on her skirt, causing them to slow their pace down even more.

"I can't—I really can't anymore." She panted, in broken breaths.

Ravenna couldn't just leave her and was ready to suggest climbing when the first dog showed up. It was black and long legged with its long yellowish fangs out, the hackles were up, and it barked in a shrill loud manner that had both girls clinging to each other and backing themselves into a tree trunk. As the second, a large mastiff and the third, another Doberman showed up, Ravenna pulled out her dagger feeling just a little safer with it in her hand.

The fourth and the fifth one appeared and Sintara felt pure fear sink it's talons into her chest, spreading through her body. She might have felt a little better with a weapon of some sort as she lashed out with leg when a dog's teeth got a little too close to her leg. The dog managed to catch the hem of her skirt and began pulling and yanking it. Sintara let out a short scream as she did her best to get the dog to let go of it.

"Balerion!" There was only blind panic and fear in her scream, a plea that he would hear her.

Ravenna would have turned to help Sintara if she hadn't been preoccupied with keeping a huge masked hound away from her leg. If that thing jumped on her she was rather sure her lungs would be crushed, it looked the size of a small horse.

Sintara's screams were becoming louder and more terrified with every passing heartbeat. It seemed to spur the dogs on as the fourth and fifth ones stood in the back pacing. Then, as if heaven sent, an unnatural cry sounded. Ravenna's eyes couldn't follow what was going on as a black blur burst from the undergrowth, pouncing upon the dog in front of her. There was a yelp and then nothing, the large dog laid in an unmoving heap as a serpentine tail lashed back and forth.

One amber eye was focused on her as the jaw clamped around the mastiff's neck. That eye seemed an endless pool of amber streaked with intelligence and wisdom. The strength in the jaw had snapped the windpipe clean in two upon impact, for a moment there Ravenna found something to be more frightened of.

"Balerion, _dracarys_!" Sintara was now on the verge of hysteria as a dog had sunk its teeth into her leg and was shaking its head as if trying to rip it from her body.

Ravenna watched in amazement as dragon drew in a breath of air and exhaled in a stream of bluish-white fire. The color was unexpected, it was not the color she had been told comes from dragons. The fire didn't seem to nip and bite, it devoured and fed off of the fur and flesh of the dogs. It ate up their yelps and howls of anguish while sapping away the strength in their limbs until they were nothing but corpses on the ground. Two managed to escape, the two that had been pacing at a distance. The fur had gotten singed, but they had gotten away with their lives.

Ravenna stood their gawking in stupefaction as Balerion, once sure there were no longer any threats nearby by, trotted over to his sister who was holding a hand over her bleeding leg and shedding water from her eyes The dragonfire had burnt away her shoes and the bottom half of her dress, but beyond that she was untouched by the flames.

Ravenna snapped out of her stupor as she saw the tears rolling down Sintara's eyes. The dagger went away while she moved to get to Sintara's side, her path was blocked by a hissing dragon. Even if he was no larger than a medium-sized dog, the fact that he could breathe fire and after what she saw him do that dog with one snap of his jaw, stopped her in her tracks. Ravenna held up her hands in surrender, she really hoped the beast remembered her. She hadn't seen him at all through their journey and she wasn't exactly sure how good a dragon's memory was.

" _Raqiros,_ Balerion. She's won't hurt us." Sintara's tears she wasn't in control of, although her voice kept out steadier than her shaking limbs.

The blonde did not think that a dragon's bite hurt as much as a dog's, granted that Balerion's been the only one who's ever bitten her and even then he never bit hard enough to draw blood or leave permanent damage. The black dragon took a few agonizing heartbeats before standing down and back up, allowing Ravenna safe passage. As soon as she made it to Sintara, she dropped down to her knees and gently pushed the heiress's hand away. The bite didn't seem to be to be all that deep, but it was oozing blood from the puncture wound.

There were two round holes in her leg and the amount of blood it was bleeding out concerned Ravenna greatly. The dagger was needed again, however, a soon as the metal of the blade was shown Balerion's frills stood up and he hissed at her. For once she ignored the dragon, more fearful of the precious blood spilling onto the forest floor. She cut a length of fabric from the bottom of her dress and much to Sintara's displeasure, wrapped it tightly around the bleeding leg. It hurt as the pressure was applied but needed to be done.

Ravenna took a few minutes to just sit and get her breath back as the tears slowly stopped falling from Sintara's face. Once she felt that everyone had their breath back she got to her feet and dusted off her dress.

"We need to go. Those dogs were sent out by someone I'd rather not stick around to find out who that was." Ravenna held out a hand to Sintara and allowed her to grasp it while pulling the lightweight up. Sintara whimpered as she needed to put pressure on her leg to stand properly, pain was not something Sintara was particularly good with enduring.

Ravenna quickly hooked an arm around Sintara's waist and place one of the blonde's around her neck, making the Targaryen lean into her to keep the weight off that leg. When they started walking/hobbling in one direction Balerion cut them off with a hiss of impatience and walked in another direction. When they tried to ignore him the dragon would cut them off again and move in a different direction. It took Sintara a couple of times before she finally understood what he was doing.

"He wants us to follow him." She sighed while pointing to the dragon's back. "My belongs and some things my mother gave to me were strapped to his back." It was clear that Ravenna wasn't exactly following so Sintara further elaborated. "Dragon are known for their hoarding habits. Different dragons hoard different things, Balerion for instances only hoards things of value to me. We got into the most horrible of fights as children because of it. But the point is that dragons often hoard things in caves." Ravenna had to think about her words a couple of second, she was mostly curious as to why Balerion hoarded anything of value to Sintara, it was odd. Finally, the part of the cave reached her brain. If he was hoarding Sintara's things that meant he had a cave.

"Oh." Her cheeks went back to being red when the heiress laughed at her. She didn't see how anything right now could be funny but wasn't going to spoil her mood. Together the two followed after the dark beast as he hopefully led them to a place of shelter.

* * *

 **Raqiros=Friend**

 **I am very sorry for the late update. The holidays keep me busy and I've been trying to figure out how I should go about this chapter. I'll try doing updates more often I think it came out pretty good. I like it better than some of my other ones. From now on Sintara's and Ravenna's chapters will be merged together, unless one of them gets split up from the other, which I don't think will be happening anytime soon.**

 **As for Ser Arthur and Lady Stark, they will be coming in again later. I am not sure if you guys want me to focus on Sintara and Ravenna or would like to see what Ser Arthur and Lady Stark are up too as well. Let me know in any reply if you have a preference, otherwise, I'm just going to continue to focus on Sintara and Ravenna.**

 **Thank you, Marvelmyra, for the suggestion, I'll give it a try and see how it works out.**


	11. The Silent Wolf

The silent wolf was doing his daily patrols of the castle, giving advice when needed and keeping order. A boring yet stressful task. He was also keeping up with his own lessons and well as making sure his siblings kept up with their own, which was possibly the hardest task of the day. The Maester was of some help, but Eddard often found him to be more a gnat in his ear. It was like having his mother around, but worse. His abrupt departure home to Winterfell from Eyrie still had him a little sullen. He did enjoy being home, but both his father and mother had left the day after his returned with his older sister, Ravenna. Lyanna had told him that father and mother had been in a dispute for days on figuring out if he or Ravenna would be going to King's Landing.

Even though he was technically the heir to Winterfell, it was Ravenna who was the eldest and who knew how to run Winterfell like his father. Lord Stark had apparently been arguing that Eddard would be a better choice since he was the heir and Ravenna would be better fit to keeping Winterfell going in their stead. Lady Stark countered that the heiress and Ravenna were closer in age and there must always be a Stark in Winterfell, and it was about time Eddard learn how to take care of Winterfell without Ravenna constantly handing out advice. Benjen and Lyanna were still a little young to take care of the North, in the end, it was Ravenna who had to go and Eddard who remained home.

He was quite sure that he wouldn't be returning to Eyrie or seeing Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn for some time. At one and six he was already considered a man grown and would be needing to learn how to be a proper Lord of Winterfell, not something he was looking forward to. The silent wolf still had a great deal of things he wished to do before taking his seat in the North. Ravenna would be better suited for this, everyone knew that, but it was Eddard who was born the male. He often wondered how life would be if Ravenna had been born as a boy.

"Reluctant wolf." The teasing tone of a girl claimed his attention as she threw herself at him in an embrace. Lyanna had grown since he last saw her, taller and older. It was clear she would become a beauty as she continued to grow. She often called him the 'reluctant wolf' because of his reluctance of taking over Winterfell."You won't believe what I saw."

"Little she-wolf, you really need to stop jumping on me you're getting rather heavy."

That comment got him a fist to the chest, one that actually hurt. Why was it both girls hit harder than the boys?

"It was huge, it looked like some sort of dog but bigger." Lyanna grinned from ear to ear as she went off into her story. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes as if she had done something grand.

"Aren't you suppose to be doing needlework with the Septa?" He interrupted her.

The smile fell and she looked at him as if he had sucked up all the joy out of the world. Eddard returned her frown with one of his own, slightly more stern. Whenever Lyanna missed her lessons he was the one punished by listening to the constant nagging of the Septa about how Lyanna would never be a proper wife without learning to do her needlework. The two Starks stared at each other, but in the end, Eddard was declared the victor as Lyanna gave an exasperated sigh and explained.

"I was going to go, but Ben told me that Lily had her pups." This time it was Eddard's turn to sigh deeply.

Lyanna had written about Lily in her letters, Lily was a loveable stray in Winter town, Lyanna and Benjen had gotten attached to her and often visited her whenever they could, they had dogs in Winterfell so many that mother wouldn't allow any more. What was so special about Lily he couldn't understand. "So we skipped lessons to go and see her. We were going to make the lessons up." She lied smoothly, ignoring the sounds that were coming from her older brother. "It was supposed to be quick, but we had to name the puppies and make sure Lily had food and water. Then we lost one of the pups cause Lily kept moving them around, so we looked for it for a little bit and when we couldn't find it I decided to head back but Ben wanted to stay and look a little longer so I went ahead of him. But on the way back here I saw it!" The pitch in her voice grew higher as she got more excited. "I don't really know what it was, but it was huge and it spooked my horse something fierce before running off."

All Eddard got out of that was that she left Benjen in Winter town by himself and that she skipped her lessons. He didn't remember being this much trouble at her age, that was often left to Raven.

"Lord Stark!" Eddard shut his mouth, unable to get words out as a guard ran up to him. He looked out of breath and very frantic as Eddard turned to face him. "They're attacking the Town!"

"What? Who is attacking?!"

"Wolves, there is a whole pack of them in Winter Town, they're attacking everyone."

Eddard and Lyanna shared an identical look with each other.

"Fetch my horse and the Captain of the Guards."

"It's already done, your horse and the Captain are waiting outside for you."

With a nod, Eddard strolled off heading to his room to get his sword with Lyanna at his heel.

"You're not coming, Lyanna." He didn't bother looking over his shoulder at his sister as he opened the door of his room and headed straight for his sword leaning up against the wall.

"I left him and I am going to get him. He's my brother too." Lyanna's voice wavered with strong emotions that Eddard could understand. However, he was going to make this clear. He slowly turned to face his sister, his eyes were as cold and harsh as winter.

"You're not coming. I understand how you feel, Lyanna, I do. But father and mother put me in charge. You and Ben are part of that responsibility. Besides, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell." The man allowed his frosty demeanor to drop when he found the tears beginning to form in Lyanna's eyes. Lyanna didn't cry.

"Mother, Father, and Raven left. Now Ben's in trouble because I left him and your leaving too." There was a quiver in her chin and the stubborn tears in her eyes wouldn't fall. "I don't want to be alone." She whispered. As independent as Lyanna acted she was still a Stark, she was still a wolf. Everyone knew that when the snow falls and the white wind blows the lone wolf dies and the pack survives. It was hard enough watching her parents and her the elder sister she looked up all suddenly leave, but now...

"I'll be back, Ben too. I'll bring him home. Mother and Father are supposed to be returning soon and Raven with them. We'll be together again." He reassured her as best he could, pulling the younger girl into his arms in a hug. Lyanna acted like this unstoppable force it was sometimes hard to remember that she was a girl and so young.

Lyanna clung to him for a moment longer before letting go as he laid a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be waiting." She assured him, with one more hug he left her standing there with unshed tears.

Once outside, Eddard found his horse, Swift, and his men waiting for him. He dipped his head to the Captian as he mounted his horse and kicked his horse into a fast gallop, his men following behind him. As they approached the village, they heard the sound of screaming and snarls. Eddard slowed Swift and freed his sword, the sound of blades being freed sang loudly behind him. The town was in chaos, a young woman clutching a screaming child to her bosom ran past Eddard, a large brownish wolf chasing after her.

Eddard swung his blade down in a strong arc, slicing the wolf across the side. The beast abandoned his pursuit of the woman and turned instead to snarl at him. Several more appeared, splitting his party up by snapping at their horses' legs, frightening them and forcing riders to gain control of their mounts instead of focusing on their target. That when they lunged, wolves knocking riders from their horses and going straight for the neck. Eddard wasn't as good a horsemen as his sisters, but unlike the rest, he managed to keep his horse under control while focusing on the wolves coming at them. Normal wolves would be too small for him to fight from horseback, but these wolves were massive, standing three even four feet taller than normal wolves.

Without warning, two circling wolves jumped at Eddard and Swift. Swift lashed out at a grey wolf, landing a kick to the side with an audible crunch. Eddard swung his blade at the other wolf, catching it across the leg. The pair fell back and resumed circling. Suddenly, they rushed again, however, before Eddard could make his move a crushing weight landed on his back, knocking him from his horse. He lost his grip on his sword and fell awkwardly with an arm pinned underneath him, pain twinging in his elbow.

He managed to roll over, the weight turning out to be another wolf. This one was nothing like his kin, he was monstrous, towering over the rest of the wolves easily matching the size of a full grown horse. His silky coat was whiter than snow, scarlet orbs glowed with decidedly human intelligence. There was no doubt in Eddard's mind that this wolf was the Alpha male. The grey eyes clashed with scarlet in a silent battle, it wasn't until Eddard tried to go for his sword did the Alpha move. Quicker than the eye could catch and as silent as the wind, the Alpha slammed a hefty paw down on Eddard's chest, forcing the air out of his lungs painfully.

Hot breath wafted over his face as long fangs snapped inches from his nose sending a fresh wave of fear into Eddard's body. He thought he was going to die, silently praying to the gods that Benjen was safe and away from all of this. He had squeezed his eyes shut waiting for the wolf to strike, yet peeled them open again when nothing came. The white brute was still staring and growling at him, but nothing else. He looked more as if he was observing him, Eddard took the chance to sneak out a dagger hidden at his side. He lashed out blindly with it, cutting the wolf vertically across his face.

The creature yelped before retaliating, digging his fangs into Eddard's arm. The wolf added pressure until he heard the bone creaking and then released. In his intense silence, Eddard somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile, the fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand. Even in pain, the Silent Wolf lived up to his title.

He believed it was the sound of a mournful howl that kept the white wolf from killing him. The large head swung to the right, blood leaking down his face, ears perked to listen and then the alpha left the man. Eddard didn't move, staring after the wolf, heart still beating erratically and electricity coursing up and down his back. The white wolf let out few barks and then a commanding howl of his own, gathering his packmates. Eddard sat up with his good arm, panting as he watched the wolves retreating from the town as one unit.

Some grabbed their fallen and others just fled until it was just the white wolf standing at the entrance, waiting. That's when the last wolf came with something in her mouth. It was more of a wail than a scream and made the hair stand straight up on the back of Eddard's neck. It was the loudest most piercing sound he's ever heard. It sounded like a scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror. In the last wolf's maw, she held the arm of young Benjen Stark, dragging him kicking and howling out of the town and away from Winterfell.

* * *

Okay, so I know I said that I wasn't going to add them but I changed my mind after getting another request about them. I might have to change some stuff in my other chapters because I really hadn't planned on adding them, but that's okay. The Stark family, with Ravenna replacing Brandon, will remain the same. I have no real clue what the age gaps were between them so I just made some educated guesses. But here are their ages in the story, and because I made Sintara a young heiress and Ravenna around her age, the rest of the Starks become younger as well.  
Ravenna=18  
Eddard=16  
Lyanna=12  
Benjen=11

In this chapter, it's been about two weeks since everything gone down at King's Landing. The Maester has received a message about what has gone on in King's Landing with the Starks from the queen in secret but hasn't told any of the Stark children since he believes that Lyarra will be returning soon enough. I don't think I"m going to do an Arthur and Lyarra chapter, but I'll explain what they've been doing whenever they show up again. Sintara and Ravenna will be at Winterfell in the next chapter


	12. Home

_I prowled in the darkness. Trees loomed over my head and moonlight illuminated through the trees, lighting up my pathway. I lifted my muzzle, inhaling deeply. Several scents flood into my nose. I flicked my ears upward as I heard the scuffling of a rabbit. I whirled around, catching sight of the rabbit nibbling on grass._

 _The I ran my tongue over my maw as I crouched, grass brushed my underbelly as I drew closer. The I let out a snarl, bursting at the rabbit. Shrieking, the rabbit darted away. My tongue lolled out as I gave chase to the rabbit. I leaped in front of the rabbit. The rabbit ran straight for my claws. Before it realized that it had made a mistake, the I clamped down my ivory enamels onto the rabbit's throat. Blood seeped into my mouth as the rabbit went limp. Satisfied with the kill, I picked up the carcass, returning to my den._

 _I was hoping something fresh would get my new pup to eat. The fleeting memory of losing my first born resurfaced with a great agonizing sorrow. It was gone as the familiar scent of a packmate reached my nose. A brown-furred female slightly tipped her head back and lowered her eyes as I walked passed, similar forms of greeting were given as more of my pack showed up around me._

 _When I had lost my first born they mourned with me, but all out all of us it hurt him the most. My mate slipped out of the rock structure that served as my new den, higher on hills. The new wound on his face was healing alright, it would scar but I was just pleased that he'd keep both of his red eyes, the furless creature called a humon's silver fang had gotten rather close to his eye. I brushed against his pure white coat as I slipped inside the den that smelt so strongly of him._

 _There were some pieces of prey my mate had brought my furless pup would not eat. My pup smelt of fear whenever my mate was nearby, maybe that was why he did not eat. With the rabbit still clamped in my jaw I walked deeper into the den. There was a large pile of pelts laid around the ground, my pack often stole them whenever a humon skinner would show up._

 _It the pile laid my furless pup, slumbering, in one of the front legs my furless pup held another of my lesser descents, a dog pup perhaps a day or two old. I dropped the rabbit on the ground, and padded over to my slumbering furless pup, reaching around him to grab the dog pup. It was a maternal instinct to keep the dog pup alive and fed I had the extra milk to spare, as I carefully wrapped the small dog pup in my maw I glanced at my furless pup's face, he looked rather peaceful when he was asleep. He looked a lot like..._

"BENJEN!" Ravenna awoke as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water all over her. She sat up swiftly, jarring the woman sleeping beside her. The scream had the napping dragon at their feet awoken and snarling at her. A cool breeze brushed against her skin, reminding her that they no longer had the cover of the trees to guard them from the wind, there was only wide open plains, hills, and a few rock structures here and there. The sky was grey and cloudy, small flakes of snow were falling down on them and had covered them in a blanket of frost.

Ravenna continued to turn her head back and forth as she doubled and then triple checked their surroundings. There were no wolves the sizes of ponies, no den, no Ben. As her breathing returning to normal, she failed to notice what was wrong with Sintara. The blonde was covered as best her attire could get, bundle up as much as possible. However, her attire wasn't all that fitting for the North and seemed to constantly shivering and shaking uncontrollably. That wasn't the problem at the moment.

The heiress had both hands wrapped around the lower part of her leg, holding it rather tightly. If Ravenna had been able to see her face she would have had seen the tears that had sprung up with the pain she had caused her.

"Sintara? Are you alright?" Ravenna finally questioned as she scooted a little closer to the older woman.

After spending two weeks traveling together, the two had fallen into first name basis. Ravenna was constantly having to remind herself to not attach the princess part to it, though. Sintara slowly managed unclench her jaw and got some words out while fighting through the waves of pain washing over her leg.

"My leg. You kicked it when awakening like that."

After finding the cave that Balerion had led them to. They found the few things that Queen Rhaella had set with Sintara. A newly handcraft bow with arrows and a quiver that must have cost a fortune, a small pouch of jewels that Ravenna was sure that cost more the entire North owned, and that was it. They had stayed in the cave for two days, mostly to nurse Sintara's leg.

The first night Ravenna had done what she could to keep the blood from bleeding out, she had wanted to stay up and watch over Sintara but exhaustion had caught up with her. She had woken up by an enraged and concerned Balerion rather roughly with a harsh slap to the leg with his tail before the next morning. Ravenna had found Sintara alive, but her blood had been leaking out slowly through Ravenna's slumber.

After waking Sintara up, Ravenna pulled a rather risky move considering she had only seen this done once when she was eight. After getting Sintara a stick, fetching more water, and her blade, she had Sintara bit down on the stick without telling her what she was doing, and cleaned the dog bite as best she could. Then with very much pleading and several trial and error, before Sintara finally spoke valyerian and got Balerion to set the blade of her dagger on fire. From there she managed to cauterize the puncture wounds, Sintara had passed out from the pain but at least they stopped the bleeding.

A touch of guilt swelled up just underneath her breasts like a lump. She felt rather bad for unintentionally hurting Sintara, she had only had a handful of hours to recuperate in the cave before they had to get moving again. Ravenna had found Flicka two days into their walk, and had gotten some relief from carrying Sintara piggyback.

Horseback had quicken the trip immensely, and thanks to Balerion they never had to worry about going hungry at all. Still, Sintara hasn't been looking all that good since the temperature has dropped and has been eating less as well. Ravenna wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with her, and could only assume more often than not. Getting kicked in your injured leg probably hadn't helped at all.

"I am terribly sorry. Are you alright?" She knew she just asked that question, but couldn't be concerned about it.

The looks Balerion kept throwing her way were making her slightly uneasy. The dragon had gotten larger over the somewhat short journey, Sintara said she didn't notice anything, although, Ravenna swore that he was longer and a little taller. Balerion did not care for her much although understood that Ravenna was needed to help care for his sister and so tolerated her present.

"I'm fine, I just need to wait till the pain goes down." Sintara exhaled gently while clinging to her leg.

After five long minutes of silence, the pain had numbed itself enough for Sintara to let go of her leg. "Can we sit here? Just for a little while longer?" She was often asking if they could remain in one spot whenever they had to move and Ravenna would always give the same answer.

"We need to keep going, the castle's not too far I promise." Ravenna was stabbed with the memory of her mother's voice soothing her agitation on the way to King's Landing, Ravenna sounded just like her now.

 _'Mother, where are you?'_ Wherever Lyarra was she hoped she was safe and in better health than them. Sintara's body made a loud thumping sound as she dropped back down to the ground, curling up on herself to preserve heat. For the several time that day, Ravenna was going to ask if she was okay except the sound of hooves slamming into the earth made her rethink her question.

She shot to her feet as if struck by lighting, and Sintara had straightened up into an upright sitting position. There were riders coming over the next hill straight for them, Balerion had tensed and slithered over to Sintara to sit in front of her, both offering what heat his body produce to warm her and to guard her.

Sintara wrapped one arm underneath the dragon's neck, more to steady herself with than for anything else. These days it felt like her strength was getting sapped away. "Who is it?" She threw her voice as far as she could to reach Ravenna's ears for the Stark was already walking towards the approaching patrol.

Ravenna wasn't listening to her, she was too busy running towards the horses and their riders. Her hood was pulled down as she stopped allowing the horsemen to slow their mounts. She knew several faces, but the names were eluding her right now. They were guards from Winterfell and that all that matter. There were five riders in all, two stopped to talk to her and the other three went on behind her. She should have told them about Sintara and Balerion, but right now she so overjoyed to finally be home the pair skipped her mind for a moment.

"Lady Ravenna? Where is your Lady Mother and Lord Father?" The patrol leader looked worn out as if he had been working far too hard, making Ravenna frowned.

She had been hoping her mother had made it home before them. There was a high-pitched whinny of a horse as the sound of men screaming and cursing cut her off. She whipped around in time to see Balerion blowing a stream of blue fire at a skittish horse who bucked its rider off. He might have been attacked by the overly defensive dragon if Sintara had not been holding him. There were some words being yelled out in High Valyerian that went over Ravenna's head, she was too busy screaming at guards who had drawn their blades in fear.

"Stop! Put your blades down!" She was thankful that the guards were seasoned and not green otherwise, she wasn't so sure they would have listened to her.

Ravenna raced back over to the pair, Balerion was blowing thick black smoke out of his nostrils and she could see the powerful muscles underneath his body rippling with anxiety. He even snapped at Ravenna when she drew closer, something she's never seen him do before. It quickly reminded her that this wasn't some animal or dog, but a highly agitated dragon. She raised her hands quickly and took a step backward, Sintara was whispering something rapidly and softly in his ear and soon enough the dragon's body slowly fell lax.

"I'm fine." Sintara panted before Ravenna could ask anything. "The horses made him nervous, that's all." With that mouthful out of the way, Sintara abruptly turned her head away and vomited what little she had in her stomach onto the ground, feeding the earth.

That had everyone turning their heads towards her and really looking at her instead of her huffy dragon. She muttered a quiet apologize as questions started flying. There were several on Balerion and even more on why Ravenna brought a Targaryen home with her. The questions were ignored as the Stark was allowed to go pass Balerion to check on Sintara. Ravenna placed a hand on Sintara's forehead and found the blonde was almost as warm as her dragon.

"You're burning up," Ravenna observed with a shake of her head.

"Really? Then why am I so cold?" The heiress was truly confused on that topic, how could she be burning up and freezing at the same time?

"Help her up onto a horse, we need to get to the Maester immediately." The four men remained at a standstill still very weary of the dragon, especially the one who had lost his mount. Finally, the patrol leader forced his horse to move forwards, carefully to stay out of the path of the dragon as Ravenna pulled Sintara off the ground and helped her mount. Sintara appeared greatly distressed having to ride with a strange male, yet tried not to openly reveal that.

"What about...that?" One of the men pointed to Balerion who was trying to follow Sintara without spooking the horse. Sintara eyes slumped downwards to Balerion at the question.

" _Sōvegon."_ The dragon hissed at the order, but ultimately expanded his leathery wings and with one gust took to the sky, flying overhead. If anything that made the horses more nervous and the men as well. "Let's go please, I really don't feel all that well." The comment had Ravenna mounting with another guard and together the party made their way back to Winterfell.


	13. The Insight of a Dragon

A gloomy and foreboding air fell like a veil upon Winterfell. Depression is the unseen, unheard, silent killer. It's the pain that's too much to cope with, too hard to deal with and so misunderstood. You can't escape it no matter how hard you try, because it follows you around like a black shadow that's on the inside, eating you.

At any other time, he would have called a friend, asked for the warmth he needed to ward it off, just a little is enough. No longer. Now he just let it come, drop by drop and he felt like it is an ocean falling upon him instead of rain - that the grief of years he carefully suspended has all condensed right above his head into a cloud large enough to block the sun. They say it can't rain forever, that there will come a time when it must cease, that the last drop will have fallen. Thing is, he just didn't care.

There in the dark and gloomy lighting, sat a boy, or rather a young man. The white bandages, wrapped over and over around his forearm, shined like freshly falling snow during an overcast. The young man sat at a table, one arm, the only functioning arm rested on the table top. The elbow was grounded against the smooth oak top, the hand stood with it palm up, a broad chin without an inkling of fuzz laid within it.

The face was stone, blank and impassive it was as if he were playing poker and everything came down to his poker face. Yet the eyes had an entirely different story to tell. What the Silent Wolf never said with his face he spoke volumes with his eyes. There was anguish, fear, anger, guilt and above all failure.

They told him he had done all he had could but in his heart, he knew he could have done so much more. He should have done something more. He carried a strong sense of failure with him since that day. Winter Town was a mess, graves were being dug for those they could bury, and for those they could not the fire ate them.

Eddard had sent those able to search the lands for his brother, yet the dire wolves proved to be cunning and intelligent beyond their descendants, they covered their tracks unseen and undetected. There was no trace of Benjen anyway, Eddard would have been riding with his men despite his injury but Lyanna needed him in Winterfell. The girl was strong, but a wolf was only as strong as her pack and right now most of her pack was scattered.

This was his first time running Winterfell alone, no mother nor father to fall back on, not even Ravenna. It was his first chance and already everything had gone to the hell, how was he suppose to be a real lord when he could not even be a good brother. The man was brought out of his gloomy thoughts as the door to the room was flung open, there was no knocking or any request of entrance which meant it could only be one person.

As the bright light of torches streamed across the room, the shadowy figure of a girl with a long face, grey eyes, and dark brown hair stepped into the room. Eddard found one of the brightest smiles on his sister's face, one that felt like he hasn't seen for ages. It was clear that she was giddy from the way she could barely stand in place, she seemed to be bouncing on balls of her feet.

"She's back, Ned." He was unable to obtain a clear idea on who was back since Ly was already running from the room and down the hall. He rose slowly, his sword now constantly strapped to his side and left his dark room to follow in his younger sister's stead. He moved like a man who was aged from war and life, his feet led him to the main entrance. Lyanna had her arms wrapped around another, the long sable hair was loss and hung in tangle and knots with leaves and twigs trapped within it.

The dress might have been lovely at one point however now was tore in several places, seams coming undone, and stains galore. The face was covered in a coat of dirt, nevertheless, a pair of strong-willed and unwavering grey eyes lifted themselves above Lyanna's head to rested on him. A welcoming smile took over her face and he could honestly say that he's never been so happy to see another wolf in his life.

It seemed the Old Gods had heard his prays after all. He just managed to keep his balance while inwardly wince as Ravenna left their sister to embrace him. He must have grimace for Ravenna took a look at his face and released him.

"What happened to your arm?" Ravenna took one look into his eyes and read him as easily as if he were a picture book. "Where's Ben? What's going on here? The guards won't tell me anything." Eddard was clearly not in the greatest of moods and swiftly countered his sister in questioning.

"Where are mother and father? Why do you look like you've been rolling around in a pig pen?" The two did not clash often, although with everything that has been going on unknown to the other as well as the stress that weighed on both their shoulders, the Wild wolf and the Silent wolf bore their fangs at one another. It was the young she-wolf who broke through the tension, the younger one hooked an arm around each of their own and held them close. She didn't have her whole pack back, but this was currently enough for her. Eddard ended up breaking first, had he held out a second longer it would have been Ravenna.

"Dire wolves attacked Winter Town, I hadn't known what they were till I rode with the men to the town. They tore through us like nothing, Raven, one of them got me to the ground and bit my arm. I don't know why, but they took Ben." That look of concern in Ravenna's eyes had him rephrasing his words. "They took Ben alive and fled from the town. I've got everyone out looking for him." Ravenna was getting the feeling that she wasn't getting all of the story there were several details that just didn't add up but she'd save the real questioning for later.

Eddard's mask was starting to chip with each word that left his mouth. She wouldn't push for more right now, not when Winterfell needed their Lord. The eldest's head was a whirl of thoughts and anxiety, her dream just had to be a dream right? She didn't really have time for this, she just wanted to bath and to rest to collect her mind and her life. It felt selfish of her for concerning herself with her needs at the moment, but her head was beginning to pound with this new information.

She lifted a hand and ran it through her hair, feeling the knots and tangles within them. It was no wonder her brother though she had played in a pig pen, she must certainly look terrible. As if sensing her rising turmoil Eddard relented. He called forth a waiting servant with a simple gesture. "Ready the bath for my sister." Ravenna might have spoken against it, but even she knew a bath was much needed. "We'll be waiting for you in the library." Ravenna cast a grateful look in her brother direction before following behind the servant, her sister clinging to her hand and attached to her hip.

* * *

It was about an hour later that Ravenna found herself free of caked on dirt and her hair in smooth straight waves of dark brown silk go down her back. She had dressed in a simple silver-blue gown, no jewelry nor makeup beyond her direwolf pin sat on her person. Lyanna was sitting on her bed, playing with the small daggers Ravenna had used numerous times throughout her journey back home. Ravenna took a moment to study her sister and had no problem admitting that Lyanna looked far more like their mother than she did.

Lyanna would turn far more heads than Ravenna ever could as she aged, which was no problem to her. Ravenna had no interest in suitors or marriage if she had her way she'd never settle down. Lyanna had been uncustomarily silent during her time with Ravenna, it worried the eldest daughter. Ly has told her a little about the incident with Benjen and how she felt she had abandoned their brother.

The last part wasn't exactly expressed outwardly, but Ravenna could hear it when the girl had spoken to her. This change in Ly was concerning, but she hoped it would pass as soon as Benjen returned home. Ravenna had just finished brushing her hair when the knock came, two sharp raps against the wooden door. It was urgent seeing as the knocker didn't wait for the door to open to make his announcement instead he merely called through the door.

"Lady Ravenna the ward is gone." Ward? It took a second to click in her mind on who was being spoken of she had all but forgotten Sintara on being reunited with her siblings. She hurried to the door and yanked it opened revealing a disheveled maester. The older man had some sort of poultice on his face and clothing, his hair was sticking up in places and one side of his head looked slightly red.

At his side, her brother stood like a looming iceberg, his eyes a mess of emotions. She merely let out a long sigh while pushing passed the two men. Eddard followed after at a brisk pace as Lyanna darted behind him.

"There was trouble at King's Landing. The Mad King imprisoned father and the Head of House Umber for plotting against the crown. We were supposed to be taken as well, Mother and I, but the Queen helped us escaped King's Landing in exchange for bringing her daughter with us. Sintara and I got separated from Mother and her knight during the escape. I haven't seen Mother since then." She was leaving a great deal of detail out, but like Ned, she would explain more once her heart settled down.

"So the ward is the heir to the Iron throne?" Eddard shocked himself at how steady his voice came out, he had heard that his sister had brought another with her but hadn't a clue nor really had cared when he had heard. Like his sister, he had a great many questions running through his head, but one problem at a time or they'd surely overwhelm themselves.

"Yes, she was hurt during our trek here. A pack of hunting dogs was sent out and one of them bit her, I tried to fix it but I don't think I might have done more harm than help. She had a fever when she arrived and I had the Maester tending to her." Ravenna paused in her chatter as they reached the room Sintra had resided within.

It was an utter disaster, blankets and pillows were thrown about, it looked like several glass objects had been shattered against walls and the door. Herbs and medicine were scattered around the room. It looked like a tornado had ripped through just this one room. The footsteps of the maester had everyone turning their heads to look at him. He seemed a little reluctant to speak but opened his mouth as the oldest wolves gave identical glowers.

"I thought she was asleep, I had given her some valerian. However, during a discussion about possibly removing the leg, she must have awoken. I can't recall much other than her bashing me in the head with something, I blacked out and by the time I awoke she was gone." Ravenna listened as her frown grew in size. The young woman stepped into the room and looked around with a puzzled glint.

"You should have made sure she was fully sleeping. I would have probably done the same if I had heard some unknown person discussing the possibility of cutting off my leg." Ravenna growled as her inspection drew her to the open window. They were still on the first level of the castle, Ravenna would have tried the door before the window but Sintara wasn't her.

Why outside? Yes, it was the closest escape, but Sintara couldn't stand the cold not without... "Balerion." She muttered to herself while shutting the window and retreating back into the hallway. "Ned, where are the men I rode with here? They must have seen where Balerion had flown to." Between her words and the pace she set down the corridor, Eddard was nearly lost.

"Who's Balerion? I thought you only bought one ward." Lyanna who had been listening patiently to everything suddenly raised her voice.

"I did," Ravenna responded without breaking a stride. "I brought the ward and her dragon."

* * *

The two-legged prey were weird creatures certain things they did he just didn't understand. Balerion was perched on the tall tower that looked rather broken and damaged to him. It was within the vicinity of where his Hatcher and his Hatcher's two-legged prey had gone. He greatly disliked this climate, it was much too cold for a dragon and if he was cold he was sure that his Hatcher was colder, her body did not heat itself as a true dragon's did.

As much as he would have liked to go indoors with his Hatcher there were far too many things unfamiliar to him and without his Hatcher to recognize which things and two-legged prey were a threat and what weren't he would merely assume all foreign things were a threat and attack before they could attack him. It would get him into trouble with his Hatcher, and he didn't really want to upset her.

Throughout the years they've been together, he found that his Hatcher was different from the other two-legged prey that roamed the world alongside him. Besides the common fact that his Hatcher had been the one to hatch him out of his egg, he's found that he understood her in more ways than he could with others.

He was sure if his mother, father, or an older dragon was here they could explain what this...difference was but he only had himself. He was smart enough to know that his Hatcher wasn't his mother, he wouldn't nip, snap, occasionally breath fire at, nor constantly need to care and protect his mother as he did with his Hatcher. Mother's care for their hatchlings, not the other way around. Beside's his Hatcher looked nothing like himself nor his sibling, she was his Hatcher and he was her hatchling.

One day he knew he would no longer be a hatchling, he could feel the changes in his body since leaving his Hatcher large cave. He was putting on a lot of muscle mass, and his wings were becoming stronger and wider. His horns, teeth, and claws were growing as well, yet he doubted that he would ever leave his Hatcher she was home.

His Hatcher had no wings, but she liked to speak of flying with him in the tongue that was much easier to understand than the two-legged prey tongue she commonly spoke in to other two-legged prey. He would not mind allowing his Hatcher on his back to fly with him, the idea of letting any two-legged prey mount him brought great disgust to him. Yet, his Hatcher was not like the other two-legged prey, she did not burn like other two-legged prey nor other prey in general.

He respected his Hatcher to a point, he did not bow to her every whim for no one could ever have that much power over a dragon, but he listened to her and looked to her for directions when lost. They helped each other, having no problem leading or following the other when the situation called for it. He had helped his Hatcher and her two-legged prey survive in the wilderness, defended them both when the dog-prey attacked.

However, he did not do that well enough seeing as his Hatcher had suffered from a wound. He wanted to grow up faster, get stronger, and to better defend his Hatcher, because of his lack of ferocity there was something wrong with his Hatcher. A sickness somehow seeped into his Hatcher, he had allowed the other female two-legged prey to tend to his Hatcher, but he was unsure of what she had done to her.

Now he had allowed more strange two-legged prey to take his Hatcher into their cave and tend to her, but at a price. Should he find that more harm had come to his Hatcher he would happily burn the two-legged prey alive within their cave. That seemed appropriate, although as he thought about that plan of action perhaps that wouldn't be the wisest one.

If he killed the two-legged prey who would fix his Hatcher? Maybe he wouldn't kill all of them, just majority of them to get his point across. That sounded better, yes that would do.

Balerion's large head shot up as a sudden tug in his chest made itself known, there was a feeling of cold wind bitterly nip his body and a chill settling itself in his very bones. He was freezing, but at the same time, he wasn't. He was scared about something, worried about something, needing something. These feelings and emotions didn't belong to him not directly.

She was calling him, his Hatcher, as if an invisible link tethered the two, Balerion slowly pushed himself to his feet as he peered out the opening of the broken tower. He couldn't see her not from here at least. The male spread his thick leathery wings and flew, he felt the wind beneath his wings as he took to the sky.

As he searched the area he would feel a tug in certain directions, some tugs were so strong he felt himself being thrown off balance as he shifted his wings immediately in order to follow the tug. After a few more wingbeats and turns, he found his Hatcher roaming outside the large den. She was moving quickly with the aid of some sort of stick seemingly lost in direction.

He parted his maw and let out a low roar, alerting her of his presence as he folded his wings slightly and took to landing on the solid earth. He held still as he allowed his Hatcher to embrace him, he had learned over time that this was some sort of two-legged prey form of affection and no longer tried nipping at her when she squeezed him. Once he was released he inhaled her scent, she didn't smell like him which clearly meant that they had been apart for far too long. He doubted that even if he was with her she would smell like him, all he could catch within his scent glands was that infectious smell.

The other two-legged prey had not cured his Hatcher. This might of enraged him, but he was troubled for his Hatcher she did not look very good and her body kept shaking violently, the way she swayed and clung to the stick like a lifeline was worrisome. He wouldn't have fret for anyone but his Hatcher. He pushed away from the instinct to slaughter and maim those who had wronged her and instead focused on getting her back to his makeshift den.

It took some directing, headbutts, and little help from his wings, but he managed to get the sick woman onto his back. She slouched over him, half sitting up and half leaning against him. Balerion moved carefully, the additional weight was odd and he had to be weary about impaling his Hatcher on his spikes. He was grateful that the tower had an opening in the bottom of it, he did not think he would be able to fly himself and his Hatcher up to the opening near the top, the fear of dropping her weighed too heavily on his mind.

He had not searched out every inch of this tower, but he was sure that it was unclaimed by any prey. He did not take his Hatcher to the top of the tower, knowing that it was colder the higher they went, and set her in a den in the middle of the tower. He left her slumped against a wall in search of things to build a proper nest for her.

He came back with some old furs and fabrics and set them around her before laying down with her. He laid much a like a mother dragon would have to guard her clutch of eggs, her face was like ice as she nuzzled into the smoothness of his scaled underbelly. He flinched but didn't draw away from her. She kept moving her muzzle and speaking, sometimes in two-legged prey tongue and some time in the tongue he understood best.

There was something about her lower leg and pain, but he wasn't able to make complete sense of it. He stretched his neck to nose the layer of fabric away from her lower limb. The leg smelt of bad meat and had him turning his nose away from the pungent scent. He wasn't sure how he could be of help to her if she ran from the two-legged prey they must have done something wrong so bringing her back to them made no sense to him. The young hatchling brooded in silence and thought before finally a memory came to him.

His sibling, Sunfyre, once spoke about how his Hatcher's mother-prey stuck her paw in her maw to gather saliva from her. Why Sunfyre allowed this made no sense to him but Sunfyre, in general, made no sense, his Hatcher knew he didn't like having her paw in his maw and so rarely stuck it in there unless she wanted to get a nip.

But that wasn't the point, the point was that Sunfyre had told him that the mother-prey often put or use the saliva for injuries. Sunfyre said it helped the two-legged prey heal faster. He wasn't sure how that worked, so wasn't going to try and understand it right now. Instead, he peered at the discolored leg with something similar to a scowl on his face.

He was well aware that his Hatcher had not bathed in the clear liquid fire as much as she often did, he often bathed with her whenever she did. There was also the problem of the scent that was repulsive and the taste couldn't be much better. But he would have to withstand it if it helped his Hatcher. So against his better judgment, he parted his gaping maw and took a portion of his Hatcher's lower leg within in.

He did his best not to put much, if any, pressure on his jaws knowing he could slice through the delicate skin like a knife to soften butter. The taste was gag worthy, yet he had to ignore it as his saliva gathered near the back of his throat and underneath his tongue, slowly soaking into the wound and skin of his Hatcher's leg. He could not tell if this was helping or hurting right away, his Hatcher's unintelligent words fell into nothing as she drifted into slumber, all Balerion could do was wait and stomach this taste. The things he went through for the love of his Hatcher.

* * *

I am sorry about the late update, I made this chapter a little longer because I felt bad for not updating sooner. We get a peek inside Balerion's head, I had fun writing for him and will probably be doing it again in later chapters. Please let me know of any mistakes(I'll reread it but I'm not a robot and make mistakes) I made in this or just let me know what you think of this chapter and Balerion's additional insight,

I appreciate it and am grateful to those who are following, favoriting, or leaving reviews. Just finding that people are reading this makes me happy, I am a rather simple girl and rather easy to please, or so I'm told. I'll try to update again soon, but life's a rollercoaster.

Oh, and I doubt anyone will be too mad at me but even though I said Sintara would be the only Targaryen child, we will be meeting a second canon Targaryen later in the story. I wasn't going to do it, but I thought why not? In the next chapter Lyarra and Arthur return finally, I wasn't sure what to do with them but it's all slowly coming in my head.

Depending on where I want to take this story I might be changing the rating to M, and despite the main fem slash there will be some side pairing maybe with my OCs, I am not sure.


	14. She-Wolf

She missed Benjen, she never really realized how much time she spent with the youngest until he wasn't around to spend it with anymore. The dark chocolate hair girl of twelve was currently peeking out from behind a large boulder and watching the eldest Stark argue with their brother about this Balerion fellow.

She was supposed to be in the Keep finishing the lessons that she had been missing, but her mind was currently preoccupied with the thoughts of dragons. It's been about six hours since Ravenna's returned home and two of those hours were spent searching Winterfell for the runaway heiress while waiting for the messenger that was sent out for those guards to return.

Upon their return and finding out that this Balerion had been seen heading towards the Broken Tower, Ravenna grabbed her furs and headed outside. Ned had told her to stay behind, but Lyanna wasn't known for exactly following rules. She had easily slipped out under the noses of those order to watch her and followed her siblings to the Broken Tower.

Lyanna remembered father telling her more than once that she wasn't allowed near this tower. Father... she gave her head a quick shake to push her more unpleasant thoughts away. Father would be back so would mother, and together they'd go and fetch Benjen from the wolves.

"You are not coming with me, I've known Balerion long enough to that he's not going to react very to having you around." The sound of Ravenna's voice carried over to Lyanna's hiding spot making her turned her eyes back to the commotion.

Ned and Raven, with a torch, had been standing outside the entrance of the Broken Tower for at least five minutes arguing about why Ravenna should and shouldn't go into the tower alone. Ned's physically showed very little of his displeased thoughts on that, but Lyanna bet his jaw was so rigid it hurt, he was probably clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. T

heir mother hated it when he did that, she was often yelling at him for it. It was rare to get either of the eldest Starks to change their minds, the two were matched when it came to stubbornness and Lyanna knew she wasn't that far behind them.

Ravenna had leaned forwards, whispering something too low for Lyanna to catch. Whatever was said seemed to push Ned in Raven's favor because her older brother nodded and headed back in the direction of the Keep. Lyanna lost sight of both of them for a moment as she had to quickly dart around to the other side of the boulder to avoid being seen as Ned stormed passed.

Once his figure was out of sight, Lyanna returned her gaze back towards Ravenna, but she was no longer standing there. In fact, it looked like she had already gone into the Tower. After one more quick sweep to make sure the coast was clear, Lyanna hurried off into the tower after her. Inside everything had worn and crumbled - their decay the only marker of time in a place of uncounted days.

Light shone in, illuminating the relics, precious secrets of the Winterfell. Mother was always complaining about this tower, how it wasn't safe and that father should either rebuild it or get rid of it. Lyanna had the strongest urge to search ever place and find every secret this tower had to offer, however, that could wait for another time when Benjen was back. As the little girl slipped around crumbled rocks and boulders, she made her way to the stairs that led up, the only thing that seemed to be complete or almost completely intact in the tower. She didn't get to go all the way up as she wished, the voice of her sister sounded in the middle of the tower.

Lyanna was careful not to make too much noise as she crept towards the room on the right, she had to slip into the room and took cover near a broken wall. There was a large hole in the middle of the stone wall that led into the next room and she peeked behind it. She found her sister around thirty feet away near the corner of the next room. She had her arms raised and was talking to someone, Lyanna leaned in a little more to get a better look.

Ahead of her sister she could make out another person, there wasn't very much lighting in the room and it was only thanks to the holes in the tower and her sister's torch that she could see anything out all. The first thing she noticed about the other person was that it was a female, the face was hard to make out but if the bosom was anything to go by and the dress, she found female was the best guess. She couldn't see the face very well from here and soon found herself distracted from the female as she noticed the pools of amber near the chest.

She thought it was her imagination at first, although was proven wrong when the eyes shut themselves, vanishing, and opened not slowly like a creature groggy from sleep, but suddenly as if a switch had been flicked. As the fire of the torch danced, she saw _him._ The dragon was the color of the night, there looked to be a snake wrapped around the female's waist yet Lyanna soon found that it was the dragon's tail coiled around the waist like the female was his possession.

The stories Old Nan told them came back to Lyanna's mind. Scales cold as ice that blazes bright as an ever flickering flame. In the chest, it holds often times a hearth of burning fire although in its remorseless heart lay rime. Eyes that turn skin into a sickly pallor, claws able to lacerate even the sturdiest to mere ribbons of flesh and bone, blood so black that night held an intense radiance that could blind your eyes. With its tongue, they could smell your dread and taste your fear. T

hey hold a wisdom like no other and, yet expresses a toxic greed. With a bed crafted from jewels, gold, and stolen treasure. Always trapped in slumber, unless they went to quench the hunger they could not satisfy, or when one was stupid enough to face it. Yes, dragons were creatures of magic something humans should fear, yet Lyanna found no fear only pure fascination at the moment.

In her curiosity, she made the mistake of leaning a little too far. The fingers gripping the side of the wall slipped, she was able to keep her balance but some of the rubble from the broken wall fell down making some noise that sounded loudly in the quiet tower. The light of the flame turned in her direction and she quickly ducked down behind the solid wall and cupped her hand over her mouth. The child remained there until the light faded away, and after several frantic heartbeats took the chance to peek again.

Her sister had her back to her once more, the unmoving female was still in place, but where was the dragon? Lyanna continued staring in that direction, hoping that her eyes had just missed it the first time around like earlier. It took her a few seconds to notice she felt warmer as if she was sitting next to a fire. She didn't move a muscle as her eyes slide as far to her right as she could get them to go, there was steam, rising in short puffs, miniature clouds disappearing into the air behind her. There was someone behind her.

That knowledge froze her in her spot and drained all hope, dreams and feeling from within her, replacing them with a feeling of despair, hopelessness and most of all, fear. Its claws cut through her body and wrapped around her brain. She wanted to turn around and at the same time didn't want to know if who she thought was behind was really there.

Before she could gather the courage to move she heard this screech, it was inhuman and filled with so much pain it might have brought tears to her eyes had she not been so scared. Her muscles unlocked themselves and she took the chance to climb through the large hole in the wall and into the room.

She finally screamed when an arm wrapped around her shoulder only to find that it was Ravenna, the older Stark's face was twisted with some emotion that Lyanna could comprehend at the moment. Ravenna eyes were solely focused on the young dragon who had stopped screeching, Lyanna just saw only the dragon's hindquarters sticking out of the entrance next to the wall with the hole she had been hiding behind.

There was something sticking out of the dragon's thigh she no longer saw it as the dragon whipped around and stalked back into the room. Ravenna yanked her sister behind her and withdrew her second dagger, holding it out in front of her with a shaky hand.

Balerion took a second to turn his head and stretch his neck to reach the thorn in the back of his leg, wrapping his fangs around the hilt of the dagger he yanked it out in one clean jerk. A thick crimson liquid spilled out and painted the formerly silver blade. In his anger, he easily broke the puny yet painful weapon in two, letting the hilt and blade clatter noisily to the ground, and turned his wrath on Lyanna and Ravenna.

His chest swelled and his throat burned with heat as he gathered a flame that would ensure a swift, if not painful death. Lyanna's fear was getting the best of her and Ravenna mind was failing her, she couldn't figure out a way out of this mess for she had seen what a dragon's flame could do. Just as the blue flame gathered in his mouth and his jaw opened itself, a deep voice shouted out in a language foreign to Lyanna's ears but familiar to Ravenna's.

" _Keligon! Balerion. Gīda dārilaros. Ziry iksos nyke sepār nyke."_ It was the Valyerian that had stopped Baleiron's fire more than the owner.

There was a man standing in the doorway, two swords strapped to his person but he made no move to grab them as he approached the agitated dragon. Balerion turned his attention the man, the frills on his spine were risen but slowly settled down as the hood was drawn from the face. Lyanna found him to be rather handsome for an older man, and she heard her sister mutter a name that she didn't catch. The man took a knee about five feet from the dragon, like one would bend to the king, he dropped his eyes and lowered his head.

Both girls watched with awe as the dragon locked eyes on the man who became an unmoving statue. It took a few tensed moments before Balerion snorted out a stream of gray smoke and turned away from all of them. He trotted over to the slumbering female and sat in front of her. There was a long sigh before the man finally drew himself up once again, he stared intently at the dragon and the female before looking at the pair of sisters.

"Lady Lyanna and Lady Ravenna." He dipped his head in a mild greeting while observing the two for any injuries.

"Ser Arthur," Ravenna responded in a slightly quivering voice.

As her sister tried to compose herself Lyanna tried to recall where she had heard the man's name from. Ser Arthur glanced once more at them before returning his sights to the dragon and the one he guarded. He deliberately made his steps loud, or that is what Lyanna saw, as he came up to the black beast.

There was a frown on his lips as he regarded the blood leaking from the back leg but made no comment on it. Balerion grumbled softly, but more as a greeting of some sort because he allowed Ser Arthur to walk pass him and bend down to pick up the unmoving blonde.

She moved a little in her sleep but other than that remained motionless once she was situated in his arm he beckoned them to follow him out of the Tower, the dragon took the lead often turning his head to make sure that Ser Arthur was being careful with the female. Lyanna had gripped her sister's hand and wasn't letting go anytime soon. Once they were outside, Lyanna got a better look at the female who she was sure would be referred as beautiful by men and women's standers. Yet the way she remained so motionless was eerie.

"How did you do that?" Lyanna found her voice again and looked up at the man with newfound curiosity. "That thing you did with the dragon." She looked over to the black beast who was now looking over at her before turning his eyes to the front.

Out here she saw that he was about the size of a large dog or a small pony, he moved with a blind and sure confidence of an apex predator, with a slight limp in the back leg. The dragon knew his place in the world and to him, everyone but a select few were inferior to him. As they made their way inside the Keep in one of the side entrances, Balerion faltered in step and drew back moving closer to Ser Arthur who chuckled at the sight underneath his breath.

"A dragon is not a creature to trifle with, they are powerful and magical creatures who expect to be treated with respect. Balerion is still young, cautious and curious at his age, yet that makes him no less threatening. When speaking to a dragon it is wise to speak to them like the are royalty. Treat them with respect instead of fear and you're more likely to come out of the encounter with your life still intact." Ser Arthur told her with a weary smile while adding.

"This is where we split, Balerion is not good with attention so I'll be taking them to the Princess's room, your Lady Mother is waiting for you at the main entrance with some guests." Lyanna nearly forgot about her mother in all of this. She was ready to bolt down the hallway, but Ravenna's hold her hand kept her in place. The younger wolf looked up at her sister, noticing for once how depressed she looked right now.

"I—" Ravenna struggled to get her words out while sneaking a looking in the sleeping blonde woman. "Will you tell Sin— the Princess that I am very sorry about what happened to Balerion. I thought that he was going to hurt Lyanna and—" "She was cut off as the man spoke in a gentle yet stern voice.

"That is something for you and the Princess to discuss when she wakes." It was clear that he had no intentions of apologizing for her.

He dismissed himself with a head dip before walking down a different hallway, the mildly limping dragon curled his lips and made some sort of hissing noise at the eldest Stark before following after him. "Oh, and do not say anything about the Princess or Balerion being here. It will only cause trouble." He tossed over her shoulder without pausing.

Ravenna might have stood there wallowing in her self-pity if not for how Lyanna tugged insistently at her hand. She basically dragged her down the hallways and into the main room where there were indeed a large number of men. The two weaved through the crowd to reach the front where they found the woman talking fondly with Ned. Lyanna threw herself at her mother's legs, startling the woman before she bent down and hugged her. Ravenna joined the hug seconds later, shoving back her tears.

"Mother, what is this?" Ravenna pushed away from the embrace and looked around the room at the many houses in their home. A full blown smile formed on Lady Stark's face, one that Ravenna hasn't seen in a long time.

"This, my daughter, is Rickard's Rebellion."

* * *

Keligon **! Gīda dārilaros. Ziry** iksos **nyke sepār nyke= Stop, calm prince. It's me just me.  
**


	15. Direwolves & the Draagoon

Tonight the moon hung full as stars dotted the black canvas of a sky. A light fog rolled through the North and frost stained the greenery. The song of swords sung softly, more of a soft hum then the loud screeches that came with a battle. In the courtyard silver blades danced to the jig of their wielders. One moved with the lithe grace and elegance of a snake, quick and sharp while the other moved more sluggishly, barely managing to catch each strike thrown at him and even constantly on the defense. As the younger one whipped around to clash steel. He held the blade even, a perfect, undaunted horizon; always leveled with the nose, just as his father had taught him.

He had stalled the man's strike but watched a knowing grin split the man's lips as his blade shivered under the brutality of the man's compelling strength. Then suddenly he felt his balance thrown off as a leg taken out from underneath him. Eddard had learned quickly to roll to his good side when eating the dust, his arm was still not exactly healed and he really shouldn't even be sparring right now, but when war was looming so close it was wise to get in as much practice as he could get.

"Better, Ned but your balance is still off." The amused voice chided him as a hand reached and grasp his forearm to pull him upright.

Arthur Dayne looked greatly entertained as he helped the lad to his feet. It's been close to a full week since Arthur's return with Lady Lyarra and company and in that week the North slowly gathered more Houses to join their rebellion. Despite Eddard's current placement as the Lord of Winterfell, he was unable to join his men in gathering support from others House due to his arm. In his stead, it was Lady Lyarra who left to speak on the North's behalf.

Yet with no word on the whereabouts of her youngest son, Arthur couldn't exactly imagine what it took to leave your home and children. Arthur had learned enough about Lyarra Stark during their time together, he had thought he had seen it all upon meeting the Targaryen, but he would have to say the Stark women were certainly formidable when the occasion arose.

Once Eddard was stable and on his feet, Arthur decided to call it a night, for the past several nights out of all the younger Starks, Arthur had grown closest to the Eddard. He reminded him to a point of an old friend and rival of his.

"Go and rest you'll need to be up bright and early to greet your Lady Mother."

Lyarra Stark had remained in her home for one day and has been gone the last six with the men they could spare to travel with her. Word had spread of the North's Rebellion like wildfire. Over the last week, several Houses have been coming to them of their own free will, Jon Arryn's had come on a raven and Robert Baratheon had delivered himself onto their doorstep hours earlier. They were having a feast tomorrow for those who had joined their cause, one that Ravenna had thankfully no problem preparing.

The two men parted as they did nightly, after picking the equipment they used they'd leave one another with a nod and go their separate ways. Yet tonight something seemed to be eating Eddard as he stood there with his head lifted towards the sky. Arthur had taken a step towards the door inside, however, he waited patiently for him to speak. Something Arthur had learned quickly was that Eddard was a man of few words so it often paid to wait for him to speak his mind.

"How do you do it? Swing your blade and take another's life?" There were unspoke words of doubt and uncertainty in those words. Ones that had Arthur's lips slowly lifting in a sympathetic half-smile. Eddard Stark was still a green boy, despite his brawl with the wolves he knew he'd have to go up against other men with families, loyalties, and ties.

Honorable men who were fighting for what they believed was right, who was he to take away their lives just because their ideals go up against his own. But what if he faltered in his battle, failed his family and men just like he had failed Benjen? These and several other thoughts and fears often caught up with when he was alone. He understood why both his parents kept busy when something was bothering them.

"I was like you at one time, wondering the same things. Then a wise man told me that―" The man was abruptly cut off as Eddard's name was howled outside.

The pair turned together to see a tall, broad-shouldered man who muscled like a maiden's fantasy. He had a clean shave and a head of dark black hair, and from the way he swayed slightly with each step spoke volumes of his earlier activities. Arthur stepped to the side as Robert Baratheon stumbled up to the Stark.

He had to keep the mild twitch in his lips still as he watched to the Lord of Storm's End and the Heir to Winterfell interact, he was sure that he was not the only one who did not understand how such polar opposites became such good friends. Arthur had met the man earlier in the day and when he wasn't intoxicated he was a decent man. His views on women were a little bias and sexist, although if you could see past that, he was an interesting one. Yet Arthur would prefer avoiding him if possible.

A great deal of Westeros knew of the Sword of Morning, yet beyond the legend and the tales that were spoken of no one really knew much about Arthur Dayne. Very few had ever laid eyes on him which in this case was to Arthur's advantage, Lady Lyarra spun a little tale of how she met a sellsword during her escape from king's landing and her separation from her daughter.

In return for his services, this sellsword asked nothing more than to have a place where he and his ill little sister could stay for the time being. His sister suffered from a rare illness caused her hair and skin to lose its coloring and her eyes to be greatly sensitive to any type of lighting. It had been a little difficult to convince Sintara to wear a cloth over her eyes whenever she left her room, but it helped that Lyanna was so eager to play the part of Sintara's assistant and guide.

So far this ploy was working out fantastically, those who knew of Sintara's and Balerion's existence were sworn to secrecy by their acting Lord. Balerion kept himself busy with whatever it was dragons did and remained out of sight, although Arthur often found himself with this gut-wrenching feeling that their stay in Winterfell would not be for much longer.

As Eddard bid him a goodnight and walked off with a drunk Robert, Arthur decided it was about time he returned to his charge. As he entered the Keep and began the trek back to Sintara's room, the pleasant, friendly expression slowly faded away and gave way to something more natural. He had eyes that told of many secrets but held them locked in a strongbox so beautiful that you wouldn't dare to open in fear of what you might find within. No one really knew how much of a mystery Arthur Dayne really was.

No man who seeks to be mysterious can truly be, there's something about wanting the attention that gives them away. Truly mysterious men have no such desire, their motives remain hidden and hence the allure. Arthur had a stand-offish quality that dares contact without inviting it. He was independent and casual, nonchalant and slow to temper, analyzing situations with ease. He was kind but didn't form emotional attachments often, though when he did he could be counted on to be truly heroic.

He hated to admit that he was slowly falling prey to the little Targaryen princess just as he had done with _him._ There was just something about the pair that drew on emotions that he had long ago buried deep inside. Arthur had sworn his sword falsely to the king and rightly to the queen because it was asked of him, and now his sword was sworn to a young slip of woman not because he was asked to but because he wanted to.

His whole reasoning for joining the Knightguard, coming to King's Landing, and more was because he was asked to. He had yet to fully understand why he was doing what he has been for Sintara Targaryen. Yes, Arthur had been begged by the Queen Rhaella to keep her daughter safe, but as devoted as he appeared to the woman he had been sent to protect her. She had sent him away so truthfully his duty should have been over the moment he had left King's Landing. However, he found himself traveling all over the place and guarding a Stark just so he could make sure that Sintara was safe and alive.

Perhaps it was because of who she was that made her so...inspiring to follow. Maybe it was because he was getting soft, yet he highly doubted that. As he reached Sintara's door he shook away his contemplation and knocked twice to let her knew he was there. He, more often than not, slept in front of her door. It was less to protect her and more to keep unwanted visitors away, finding out that the heir to Iron Throne was in Winterfell could cause a great deal of trouble and trouble with Sintara brought trouble with Balerion, who was steadily growing larger with each passing day since he no longer ate the food provided by his caretakers.

Arthur had only seen the dragons meals prepared once while in the Red Keep, and to this day he couldn't fathom what it was they stuffed in the carcasses and fed to the beasts yet from what he could guess it must of stunt their growth for a great physical change had occurred since the last time he had seen the beast in King's Landing to now. When he had questioned the queen she had fallen silent and wouldn't strike a conversation with him for a full day. It was unusual, to say the least.

After standing outside the door for two full minutes he grew alarmed and so gently tried turning the knob, he wasn't exactly thrilled to find that the door was unlocked. Over the last few days whatever strife the Princess and Ravenna Stark had faded away, the two had become inseparable with the addition of the youngest female Stark, Lyanna. The two Starks often took to sleeping in Sintara's room for reasons unknown to him and so the door was kept unlocked for them, yet was often locked after the last Stark had entered.

Having men from other Houses in their home seemed to make them uneasy, or so that is the only reason Arthur could come up with on why they always sought out Sintara's room in the middle of the night. It was well past the hour of their visit and the door should have been locked by now, so as he pushed it open he found his alarm justified as he saw only one body in the bed.

The locks of dark hair and the longer frame said that it was neither Lyanna or Sintara. Against his better judgment, he stepped into the room and up to the bed, shaking the shoulder of the sleeping Ravenna as considerately as he could.

He got a natural reaction out of the young woman as she jumped up in fright and startled backward away from him. He could see the gleam of silver in the faint moonlight that lit the room remaining him that this Stark liked arming herself apparently even when she slumbered. It took a few seconds for recognition to settled in her gray eyes and her muscles to unwound themselves.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, Lady Ravenna, but have you seen the Princess at all?" There was an edge to his tone that had Ravenna fully waking up and glancing around the room.

"They said they went to the Garderobe," Ravenna muttered with a scowl while glancing outside, it had clearly had been a decent amount of time since then if the worry in her eyes was anything to go by. Arthur muttered a curse underneath his breath as he dismissed himself from the room. He prayed to the gods that the pair had just gone to see Balerion, the dragon had laid claim over the Broken Tower. He couldn't think of where in the Seven Hells they would have gone if not there. If they weren't there well it would probably be time to visit Eddard again.

* * *

Sintara was slowly starting to regret this for it was freezing out. The sound of hoofs rhythmically drumming against the earth could have had her falling asleep if not for how the wind scratched at her exposed skin and howled in her ears. They rode on an ornery piebald mare named Patches by her rider. Lyanna seemed to take great joy out of the faces Sintara made because the woman could hear every so often a giggle or two coming from the girl. The blonde was hanging on behind Lyanna as the girl took them through Winterfell's territory. For the last few nights, the two had been planning to find Lyanna's lost younger brother, Benjen.

Due to the up and coming war and the trouble with the girl's father, Lyanna's felt that everyone sort of just forgotten about Benjen. See as Eddard was playing the part of a Lord and Ravenna had to take over the duties of the Lady and host their numerous guests, Lyanna's only free friend became the princess who was unable to leave her own room.

Whenever Ravenna was too busy to entertain them the two would come up with their own ways to entertain themselves which Sintara found to be great fun. She never knew what she was missing in her childhood until the little Stark showed up. She had Balerion, but having a real human sibling might have made her life a little different.

One of their many games often involved saving and finding the lost Ben Stark till finally, Sintara decided that why not make their game reality when Balerion "told" her that he had seen these largest four-legged creatures roaming the hills farther North. So in the dead of night, the pair slipped out, got Patches, Balerion, some extra provision in case they got lost, and rode off to find the youngest Stark.

Sintara felt that it might have been wiser to at least written a note or asked Ser Arthur to come with them, but they were already moving now and by the time she had thought about that she had already been on the horse.

They've been riding for hours now in one direction and Patches was showing signs of tiring, Sintara was very much tempted to suggest turning back. She probably should have consulted with Ravenna about this scheme, Ravenna was always little more thoughtful or she was to Sintara when it came to planning. Sintara was the type who simply jumped head first into things without really thinking it over, she could practically hear the oldest Stark berating her. The thought actually irritated her a little bit mostly because she knew she'd be right in a way.

"Does any of this feel familiar to you?" She snapped out of her musing and lifted her head look at the pleading eyes of Lyanna ahead of her.

The cheeks were stained a bright red along with the nose, and her eyes appeared a little glossy from the power of the wind blowing at them. The look she gave Sintara reminded her of a beaten dog or lost cat looking for hope. Sintara sighed heavily before lifting her head and peering around with lavender-hued orbs, she bypassed it three times but on the fourth, she noticed the rock structures that looked similar to the one Balerion had "described" to her. It was up higher on a tall heavily slanted hill riddled with boulders and rocks.

"Up there." She pointed, ignoring the way her heart unclenched itself at the smile Lyanna gave her.

The two had to dismount, getting Patches up there wasn't something that was going to be possible. Sintara rolled her shoulders and had to take a few before her legs worked again to get moving. It's been some times since she had last had to haul around her bow, arrows, and quiver. Arthur Dayne has been making it rather clear that her blindly relying on Balerion to save her every time she got into a rough patch would probably get her killed one day.

So because he made the time, she often found herself roped into being trained by him at the Broken Tower. It's only been a few days and although she was a skilled archer, she was not good enough for the Sword of Morning, and now had a training regiment set out for her. If they got out of this intact she could only imagine the horrors he'd put her through.

"Sintara!" Lyanna's shrieked as she swiftly moved back towards the woman as she noticed that some of the rocks on the hill had glowing eyes.

There was a nervous nicking sound coming from Patches that Sintara ignored while drawing her bow and an arrow and notched it. Her muscles no longer trembled under the force that was needed to pull the string back and keep the stance of an archer. It was slowly becoming a natural action with her. Her eyes began to wander as more and more of the 'rocks' turned out to be large sleeping wolves.

They finally stopped on the hulking male padded down the hill, in the moonlight his fur looked silver over white although the eyes remained the same striking vermillion color and the scar that marred his face made him a very fearsome creature.

She heard Lyanna whispering something about the wolf that had bitten Eddard, she was more attentive towards the wolf lumbering his way over to them. He stopped about fifteen feet from them and just sat down, just like that and stared at them. It was greatly unnerving to be stared by a horsed-sized wolf. She would have been less freaked out if he had snarled or growled at her, that would be a normal reaction.

After seconds of just staring Sintara slowly lowered her bow and arrow, although kept it notched just in case. Sintara stopped her eyes from roaming the wolf's strong physic and instead settled on his eyes. There was a startling amount of intelligence in those eyes and they reminded her of Balerion's eyes. She suddenly felt a little shameful for thinking that dragons were the only truly intelligent animals in the world, far superior to any household pet. The wolf before her proved that.

"Can you understand me?" Her voice drew many ears in her direction and a few growls, Sintara did her best not to draw her bow again at the sound and remained focused on the wolf. "You stole something from us, a boy. We'd like him back." She couldn't tell if her words were getting across to him because all he did was cock his head to the side as he listened to her.

Yet, consider that she was still breathing and the wolves weren't approaching she figured he was listening. She was tempted to try again until she was nearly thrown to the ground as Patches suddenly reared and knocked Lyanna into her. The spooked horse bolted off as Lyanna righted herself and found what had frightened the mare.

There were wolves coming in behind them. Sintara had her bow back up and grimaced while shaking her head back and forth in silence, that wolf was cunning bastard that was for sure. He kept her busy while the others come up behind them ready to kill them without warning. Sintara had been hoping to sort this out without blood and violence, but such thoughts were for pansies. It was time to fall back onto plan B and let the animals of their own kingdoms sort this out. The wolves and humans both tilted their heads back to look at the sky as a shadow briefly blocked out the moonlight.

* * *

How the two-legged prey managed to rule over the world was an astonishment to him. Nothing they do make much sense to him, his Hatcher was the closest one he could come to understand and even then he was often left confused by her. Such as now, why in the world was she standing in front of a pack of dog-prey? It wasn't all that long ago that she had gotten bitten by one of the dog-prey.

The dragon tucked his wings in and slanted his body as he turned to circle around his Hatcher. He parted his maw and let out a burst of blue flames, not intending to do any real harm it was more of a warning to stay away from his Hatcher and the small two-legged prey with her. He glided down in front of the two and landed so that he stood between the pack ahead of them.

The dog-prey that had been ambushing them had scattered and back off as soon the fire come from his mouth. The smaller two-legged prey he had tried to sniff at his broken tower was speaking in gibberish to his Hatcher.

He didn't pay them much mind as the white dog-prey was enraged with him. Balerion stood a foot or two shorter than the dominate dog-prey but clearly outweighed him by several tons. He felt he could carry his Hatcher if he so wished it, but neither one had the chance to test out that theory considering his Hatcher spent a great deal of time with her new Watcher and the small two-legged prey. He was supposed to be staying out of sight here which meant he only got to see his Hatcher when she was free to come to him. It was vexing to him.

 _"What are you?"_ Balerion's head drifted to the right as he heard the silky voice within his head. This was new...he's never heard voices within his head before. He hoped that this was some belated dragon ability he had no knowledge of, otherwise there was something wrong with him. He missed Sunfyre at least with her he could have had someone similar to compare this with.

 _"The two-legged prey call me a dragon. However, I am quite sure I have more names than just that, dog-prey."_ It was the scarred one's turn to tilt his head in confusion. He appeared to just go with it since the next question wasn't exactly what Balerion was predicting.

 _"Very well, Draagoon. What do you want? Why do you come to the aid of the Humons?"_ Balerion couldn't help but lash his tail as his frills bristled. He was quite sure that the dog-prey knew how to properly say dragon consider that they were communicating without words. There would be a great language barrier between them seeing as they were different species. He had to look over his shoulder at his Hatcher and the two-legged hatchling in order figure out what a humon was.

 _"The two-legged prey?"_ He questioned, making the scarred one do that curious dog-prey head tilting thing. _"They are mine. One is my Hatcher and the other is my Hatcher's two-legged prey, which makes her mine. If you touch what is mine I will make sure you die howling like the last dog-prey who had. I will make sure your flesh does not go to waste."_ Balerion hissed bluntly while unfolding his wings and exposing his fangs when the scarred one rose to his paws and snarled at him.

The rest of the dog-prey within his pack followed the scarred one's lead making Balerion edgy. The only thing that kept him from jumping into battle was the sight of another two-legged prey hatchling, this one smells of a male. There were some shrill words coming from both two-legged hatchlings, and his Hatcher had to keep the female two-legged prey hatchling from running to the male.

The male two-legged prey hatchling would have run straight down the hill, but another large dog-prey showed up and caught him by the back of the fur he wore. The light brown dog-prey carried the male two-legged prey hatchling down the hill and resided next to the scarred one.

The female dog-prey was a little shorter than the scarred one and looked like she weighed less. Balerion was hesitant to breathe fire with the two-legged prey hatchling in her maw, his Hatcher would be displeased if he hurt a two-legged prey hatchling for some reason his Hatcher was fond of them. The pair of dog prey shared a look as Balerion spoke once again. _"That two-legged prey hatchling, my Hatcher wants him. You will give him to her."_

 _"The little humon is my mate's furless pup, the humons took my first one. My mate wanted another one from the humon village."_ The anger and rage that came with the word made Balerion tense as he glared at the two. He could understand them to a point and at the same found them as stupid as the two-legged prey. Why would anyone want a two-legged prey hatchling they weren't even dog-prey.

 _"You dog-prey are much like the two-legged prey, yet it does not matter. You will return the two-legged prey hatchling or I will kill and devour you. The choice is your'."_ The pair of dog-prey looked at each other communicating in some unspoken language that he couldn't understand, somewhat like how he spoke to his Hatcher. He took a second to look away from them as he felt the distress rolling off Hatcher. His Hatcher's two-legged prey hatchling was leaking water from her eyes and being difficult. He was unsure if dragons were able to leak water from their eyes, he's never experienced it before.

 _"Draagoon, my mate and I do not wish to spill the blood of our packmates, not for the furless cub. We will return him to you, but we ask for something in return."_ Balerion relaxed his defensive stance at these words but remained on guard as he heard them out.

 _"My Hatcher is good at bossing the two-legged prey around, speak and I will see if it can be done."_ Balerion was greatly intrigued on what they could possibly want from the two-legged prey if they had spoken this earlier he could have been back at his den sleeping. It was so hard understanding his food at times.

* * *

 **This one is longer cause I didn't know how to end it and because I wanted Benjen back in the story(I don't like how I ended it but I felt like I had gone on long enough.)**

 **I wasn't going to do a P.O.V for Arthur Dayne, but then started one for him and couldn't stop which is mostly why this chapter is longer. He's going to be a grey character, playing the part of the chivalrous and loyal man everyone sees him as but really has something dark lurking within his character. The books and the t.v series don't give very much on him. I found him to be rather fascinating and decided to give him a bigger part in the story.**

 **Balerion get's some magical dragon abilities in this chapter, he will most likely be gaining a few more the older he grows. Because in my head all different types of animals have their own langue, kinda like people, animals can't talk to each other in a langue they understand. So Balerion has a telepathic ability, he can only use it on animals and their level of intelligence has to be of a human's or higher for it to work. It can't run off of basic animal instincts otherwise, he just get's static if that makes sense?**

 **Sintara is not a warg, in case anyone was wondering. The whole reason she and Balerion can understand each other on such a strong level is** because **Balerion can project his emotions on to Sintara and certain memories of his come to her in flashes of pictures and vice versa with him. Sintara is not able to enter his mind or control him in any way.**

 **I am changing the rating on the story to M because my mind is going into some not T rated places the more I think and plan out the story. I am hoping that I don't lose readers because of the rating change, but consider your reading a _game of thrones_ fanfic I would assume that I won't.  
**


	16. Complications

The air is frozen lace on her skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on shallow sand. The sky is washed with gray, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. When asked to describe winter, she'd tell of the barren wasteland of brilliant white that sparkled like a fresh page in the wintry sun. She'd speak of the blustery, chilling subzero winds that bit at the little skin she dared expose to it.

She'd describe the crystalline crunch of fresh snow after a blizzard that erased her footprints and set the world anew once more. After a month the extreme desolation began to seep into her very blood and even the winter wonderland around her could not jolt her from that isolated feeling. In that frigid, ice-kissed world she needed to make a determined effort to avoid frostbite, whose threat was ever-present. On the grayest days, the ground and the sky seemed to melt into one and there was no horizon, just gray. Today was one of those days.

There was a sound, faint at first but grew in volume. It was a loud ear piercing sound that crackled through her eardrums and had the hair standing on her neck. It was a sound that might have had her heart pounding in her chest and blood racing if hadn't know who it belonged to. A second howl went up alongside the first, although to call it a howl would have been insulting.

It was more like a wail of a dying animal when compared to the first one. It wasn't hard to tell which one was the wolf and which was the human. Sintara lowered her lilacs down to the mass of black fur and wiry muscles. The stallion tossed his head up and stomped a hoof on the snow covered earth, antsy to be off.

This stallion was never one to sit idle for long periods of time, Sintara had lost track of the amount of time she's been sitting on the horse's back just staring off into the distance. She had most likely lost the head start that was given to her, so digging her heels into hard muscles at the flank, she and the stallion set off at speeds that could rival the wind.

But even such a stallion such as Nightfury was no match for the near mythical creature pursuing them. The blonde turned slightly within her saddle, her gaze peered into the distances as the silhouette took shape. From this far away it would be easy to mistake the creature as a small horse yet as the strides lengths and the closer it came the less horse-like it appeared.

Her fur, short over her body and longer at the neck, is smooth and shiny. Her stance is confident and body muscular, this girl knows how to take care of herself. Her movements are fluid and without apparent effort as her paws eat up the ground and push her closer and closer to the blonde. Raksha is what they called her, is what she told them to call her. The Direwolf and Ravenna had some sort of bond, they called it warging. Yet the rider on the wolf's back is not the eldest Stark, but someone just as wild.

At the speed they were moving the two would bypass her. Now the Targaryen couldn't have that, naturally hot-blood and competitive it just wasn't in her nature to lose. Why she had agreed to race on a horse while Lyanna got a Direwolf she would never know. She was quite sure it had something to do with Ravenna but right now winning was the only thing that consumed her mind.

She tilted her head backward, beyond the sound of the hoofs she could hear the paws drawing closer, practically feel the impending doom coming upon her. She shut her eyes and drew in a soft breath of air from her nose. She blocked out the unnecessary static, she couldn't do this when she wasn't concentrating, wasn't focused. As she released the breath, parting her lips, words came with it.

 _"Ivestragī's sōvegon"_ She called out, her strong voice loud and clear as it cut through the miles of distance that separated them. She called out with her voice because she liked to hear herself. If she wanted to, if she really wanted to she knew that she didn't need vocal cords to communicate with him. At the same time she called out with her voice, she shouted in her head. She could feel the link sparking with life as her Valyerian was answered.

The sun was suddenly eclipsed, the dragon's shadow comes to life like a butterfly opening from its dark cocoon. She could feel the stallion stiffening underneath her, his gait slowing down. It didn't matter to either of them, the blonde was already throwing herself from the horse's saddle. Whereas some if not all would of taking a rather rough and very painful fall, she felt hot, smooth scales underneath her. Before she could slip from the dragon's back, both hands reached out and upward, finding familiar spikes that served as something to steady her. She was forced down abruptly as he pushed up, taking them higher.

It was like climbing a small mountain, a small moving mountain that flew in the air. With one step at a time she made her way onto the lower part of his long neck, sitting in between the shoulder blades, the huge crown swung around and a burning amber orb regarded the woman with the highest of intelligence. She cast Balerion a smile that spoke volumes of her delight and pleasure to be on his back again, he expressed himself with a small purring sound like a cat. He was pleased to have her back as well.

Balerion ascended higher until Lyanna and Raksha looked like nothing more than small ants. She could have sworn she heard Lyanna screaming at her for something, but it clearly went unheard. On top of a dragon back it was hard not to feel empowered like the world was yours for the taking. He made her fears, doubts, and worries blow away with every beat of his wings.

How could she ever land, why would she ever want to land? It was peace it self-ascending to the heavens, seeing the view usually bequeathed only to the birds, their birthright and domain now belonged to them. Yet, all great things had to come to and end and reality returned. The dragon descent, angling his wings to catch the air as he glided down to a clearing.

Sintara found herself pitched backward as he came closer to the earth before finally landed heavily. She climbed off his back a little more gracefully then climbing on it, a wing was extended and she crawled to the side to slide down the leathery limb and onto the ground.

She stood in a large forest clearing, mostly full of frosty grass and a small stream cut through on the left side of the clearing. The leaves on the trees were rather unusual, large and open almost as if they were made to keep something away. Several trees had been uprooted and laid on the ground, the reasoning behind it was lost on her.

A large cave was off to the side, she could see where claws had scored across the rock to make the mouth of the cave larger to fit Balerion's increasing growth. Sintara turned to look behind her at dragon who had settled down on the earth behind her. He looked rather content at the moment. In the last year, the dragon non-stop growth had forced him out of the Broken Tower and into the vast land that surrounded the north.

He had a muscular body with a very long, wide tail and neck. His legs had grown longer, he had four thick limbs with five splayed digits on each foot. The graceful, wide-set wings ran from the shoulders to the hips. He had large nostrils located on either side of his snout with a just as large mouth with a pronounced underbite.

He had no visible ears and a mane of spines sprouts from the back of his head down his neck that served as handles for her whenever she was on his back. His pure black scales are more plates of armor, like those of a knight's although stronger, those went along his chest, back, and sides. The scales grew finer and softer along the legs and underbelly.

He was now equivalent to the size of an elephant and was growing still. She couldn't imagine how big he'd become. As he noticed her eyes on him, the dragon peered back at her with hooded pools of amber. His lips were drawn back, making it look like he was smiling or smirking at her.

She grinned in return while walking over to his front legs, he spread them a little so she didn't need to climb over the limbs. She sat down in the large space and used the dragon's chest as a wall to prop her back against. It was like sitting against a wall of fire, such heat would have had others crying out in discomfort or pain, Sintara simply relished the heat.

Balerion lowered his head, laying his chin on his leg near the woman. She leaned forward and began to pull at the loose scales near his eyes, the one place he could not reach without assistance. He had started dropping scales around the same time he had his growth spurt, she found it fun to collect and compare them.

As the pair fell into a comforting habit, Sintara allowed her mind to roam. In the past year, numerous things had happened. Rickard's Rebellion being the greatest of them all. Several Houses had rallied behind the Starks, not just those within the North. Eddard had left not long after his arm was healed, joining his men on the field of battle. He had taken Phantom with him, the former Alpha of the Direwolf pack. The blonde smiled fondly as she recalled the astonishment on everyone's faces when she and Lyanna had brought the two direwolves back along with Benjen that night.

The only way they could have brought Benjen home was if they had taken both wolves back to Winterfell with them. No one really knew why they wanted to come and live in Winterfell, no one besides Balerion that was, yet he wasn't speaking about it. Lady Lyarra hadn't been exactly happy with it. However, she did allow it when the eldest Starks laid claim to them.

Eddard had named his Phantom, and Ravenna had told them Rakasha's name. Lady Lyarra was more than happy to see Phantom off when Eddard had decided to take him along side him into war. Raksha was proving to be a second mother to the youngest Starks, even though Ravenna owned her, Raksha preferred spending her time with the youngest Starks.

Benjen was technically the Lord of Winterfell with Eddard gone, but it was Ravenna and Lady Lyarra who took care of Winterfell. They've received birds from Eddard whenever he had time to write. The latest one brought news of the Rebellion coming to an ending, six months ago they had managed to get someone on the inside to sneak Lord Rickard Stark from the prison along with Lord Umber.

Both men had been brought back in a rather horrifying state, Eddard had referred to Rickard as 'broken in mind' and that the healers and Maesters were doing everything in their power to fix him. The news had sent Lady Lyarra to her bed for three days.

This message had brought better news, saying that the Lords were recovering rather well and even that Rickard was participating in the war, of course with Eddard keeping a close eye on him. They had entered King's Landing and we're taking the Red Keep, shocking the biggest threat being the Lannisters, had turned out to their ally. Eddard promised that everything would be 'right' within the next month or so. That had been a month ago, Sintara was growing impatient with waiting for the next update.

Then there were her personal problems, her once non-existent love life had become very complicated. Sintara was quite sure it was only because of that incident last year, but of course _she_ wouldn't admit it. Last year on the night before going off to war, a certain someone might have gotten a little too drunk during the going away celebration. Sintara, who had gotten into a habit of leaving her door unlocked for the Stark girls, had become his latest victim to his sexual habits in his drunken stupor. The woman had brushed it off as no big deal, to her it really wasn't all that big of a deal. Nothing had happened, not all that bad anyway.

She had gotten a cock forced down her throat, one that she had 'accidently' bitten when trying to remove it. It had earned her a fist to the face, getting hit in the face by a Baratheon wasn't exactly something even a full grown man could handle. Sintara had naturally blacked out. By the time she had come to she found herself being cradled by a very concerned mother in Lady Lyarra's bed chamber. She was very naked underneath the covers, but beyond the throbbing pain near her temples, she didn't feel any discomfort or pain anywhere else.

Sintara was later informed on the details she had been missing. Apparently, Lyanna had been the one who caught the Baratheon and she had ran off to fetch Arthur. There was a brief brawl which resulted in needed three or four men to pull Arthur off of Robert. The man didn't remember a thing in the morning, and Sintara refused to let anyone remind him or to get him to apologize.

She had been thoroughly and uncomfortably checked out by their Maester, she wasn't sure who had been more relieved that she still had her maidenhood intact, them or her. The fact that she still had her maidhood was good enough for her.

There were a few other things that the Maester had wanted to discuss with her, but mentioning them had caused her infamous temper to rise and she would unhappily admit that a few things were thrown and that she had thoroughly destroyed the room. Such things were never mentioned in her presences again. In the end, no one mentioned a thing to Eddard, Lady Lyanna had been concerned how it might affect the friendship between the two Houses and Sintara had agreed.

Ravenna had been furious, for days after trying to get something done about it. Sintara was very stern and kept her former decision about having nothing done the same. Ravenna had eventually let it go, or at least that what Sintara had thought she done, she had thought wrong.

About two days ago she returned from a daily training session with Arthur to find Ravenna fighting with her mother. Both she-wolves were livid, hackles risen and fangs out. It took some time but she managed to get them to sit down and talk about it. Arthur took the younger Starks out to play while she tried to sort everything out.

Ravenna had gotten a letter from Robert Baratheon informing her that he had requested her hand in marriage and that her father had agreed to it. The wolf went into a very long and unwanted rant on why she would not marriage that pig. She was still very upset with the whole incident, and constantly reminded them about it as well as the several bastards the man already had. It didn't end well, neither woman could get through to the stubborn Wild Wolf that she didn't really get a say in the matter.

Sintara's been prepared majority of her life for an arranged marriage. It was how the world worked these days. You married who your parents told you to marry, either you learned to love that person or you forever remain bitter and resentful towards the person. She had learned that most people made their arranged marriages work, love at first sight, and true love didn't really exist at least not to her. So she had been totally unprepared for Ravenna's confession of love not long after they learned she was to wed Robert.

Now that she thought about it, she shouldn't have reacted the way she had considering that was done at the heart tree. In her defense, she really had thought Ravenna had been jesting. When she realized that the Stark was serious, Sintara fell back onto her usual emotion when uncomfortable or caught off guard, anger.

She told her how convenient it was that the Stark fell in love with her days after learning she was to marry Robert Baratheon and when Sintara nearly had the throne back. She made it seem like Ravenna was only looking for an escape from her unwanted marriage, and the easiest out was Sintara. That had ended in another argument and they haven't spoken to each other since.

The Targaryen was pulled out of her thoughts rather painfully as a sharp fang nicked one of her fingers. She pulled her hand away from Balerion's mouth and quickly began sucking the finger his tooth had cut open. The dragon was staring at her with displeasure, she was about to ask what she had done to deserve that when she noticed she had been pulling harshly on one of his scales. A small amount of blood was beginning to trickle down his cheek, a small black scale hung by a thread where the blood was pooling. Her finger was forgotten as she used the sleeve of her furred coat to dab at the injury.

 _"Iksan vaoreznuni."_ She muttered softly while carefully removing the hanging scale. _"Iksan sīr vaoreznuni,_ Balerion. _"_ She didn't notice the tears falling from her eyes until her eyesight began to blur. _"Shijetra nyke."_ She didn't hear the quiver in her voice, how she pleaded with him to forgive her. She didn't know why she was crying, why she felt like shit, why everything was crashing down now.

A forked tongue and hot breath brushed against her cheek. She cradled what she could of the dragon's snout against her, taking whatever comfort he was willing to offer her. The flood gates slowly stopped as she got a hold of herself. She got her face licked clean and gave a few more sniffles before they showed up. Sintara had been expecting Lyanna and Rakasha to appear, when a large crimson horse and his rider emerged she had to say she was thoroughly confused. The stallion, Imperial, looked slightly out of breath.

Arthur wasn't in a very good mood, he swung himself off his large horse and briskly walked over to her. The look on his face was grim and a little menacing, the tension the man emitted put Balerion on edge. She rose, unsure of what was wrong, at the same Balerion's snake-like tail slithered up and around her left leg up to her thigh. The dragon got to all four of his legs and let out a growl, making Arthur freeze in his spot. The slitted eyes peered at the man with wariness, and the man watched the dragon with something akin to irritation.

"We need to leave. Get on the horse." The deep voice demanded in a rigid tone. Sintara didn't move a muscle as she furrowed her eyebrows while trying to figure the man.

"No. Tell me what's wrong and then maybe I'll get on." It wasn't hard to tell that that wasn't the answer he was looking for. She could see the veins jutting out of his neck as he grew more stressed. The man ran a hand through his short hair and took in a deep breath of air and let it out.

"Princess, we don't have time for this. We need to get back to the Keep, gathering your things and leave the Kingsguard is coming."

"How do you know this? Why are the Kingsguard coming? You are a True Knight, my Sworn Shield, as your master you will tell me what is going on." Her voice went from a whiny princess to a frigid queen. Their eyes clashed, neither one wanting to do as the other said, but in the end, it was Arthur who gave in she had him in a bind.

"I've been keeping in contact with the Spider." He held up a hand to keep her from protesting. "He's been watching over your mother. One of his little birds told me this morning that the Queen and her dragon are dead. They-"

"Dead?!" Sintara interrupted, she bit her lower lips and sagged heavily against Balerion. If he understood what was just said he gave no sign. "How? Who killed them? Was it him?" Instead of falling into denial she took it as it was. She knew there was a high chance that she wouldn't see her mother again, not alive. She hoped that it wouldn't be true, but hopes never gotten her very far in life.

"No, it wasn't King Aerys. There is a new King on the Throne, he had them doused in the very Wildfire you father had been planning to use to burn down King's Landing. He said they died an honorable death, by fire and blood." The tears were back, falling down her face in silent streams of agony. She didn't want to ask, she didn't want to know, but the question was already leaving her lips.

"Who sits on the Iron Throne?"

"The Winter King, King Rickard Stark."

* * *

 **Ivestragī's sōvegon=Let's Fly**  
 **Iksan vaoreznuni= I am sorry**  
 **Iksan sīr vaoreznuni=I am so sorry.**  
 **Shijetra nyke=Forgive me.  
**


	17. King Rickard's Mistakes

The battlefield flashed through his eyes every time he closed his lids. The clangor of the swords had died away, the shouting of the slaughter was hushed; silence lay on the red-stained territory. The pale bleak sun that glittered so blindingly from the fields and the plains struck sheens of silver from rent corselet and broken blade, where the dead lay in heaps. The nerveless hand yet gripped the broken hilt: helmeted heads, back-drawn in the death throes, tilted red beards and golden beards grimly upward.

The battlefield that day saw fathers fighting to their last breath and the young army of warriors wielding swords without mercy. The wounded and dead lay thickly over the ground, garish scarlet flowing over the earth. The young lord shuttered openly before his body stilled, his retinue merely thought it was the cold that caused his body's reaction. The soft amount of pressure was felt through his armor and had him opening his lids, hollow grey eyes shifted slightly downwards to the large albino standing directly alongside his mount's flank, almost matching it in height.

In the last year, Phantom had become his closest ally and greatest friend. The expression 'man's best friend' finally made sense to him. Unlike a man's loyalty, Phantom's wasn't swayed ever. The new Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North had lost count of the times Phantom had saved his life. It was hard to think that just a year ago they had tried to kill each other. He barely leaned over the side of his horse to rest a palm between the wolf's ears.

He could have sworn that the white canine watched him with pride in his crimson eyes, the type of pride a father would have after learning his child had done something worthy of such an emotion. It almost made him completely at ease, almost. During the Sack of the King's Landing, they met the King Slayer, Jamie Lannister, standing over the body of Aerys Targaryen with a sword though the dead man's chest. The King Slayer explained himself, told them of the Wildfire underneath the Keep and of the Queen and the dragon sitting in the Black Cells in place of the missing Princess.

They were allowed a day of rest, the war was over, they had won. There was a feast, the men ate and drank themselves into a stupor, Ned had sadly been one of them. It was only because of all the ale and the fact that he was piss drunk off his rocker, did he muster up the balls to talk to her. She was lovely, possibly the most beautiful maiden he's ever set eyes on.

She was tall, with the blackest hair, and striking violet eyes. He was quite sure it had been her eyes that had drawn him to her in the first place. He had thought she was just a servant, for whatever reason she seemed quite taken with him. Or perhaps it wasn't him and rather his accomplishments and feats in the war. He didn't remember taking her to his room, he vividly laying with her, by dawn she was gone. She left a note of thanks, that she had fed his wolf, and her name in case he ever came looking for her.

He clenched the reins harder at the memory. Dayne, Ashara Dayne, a noblewoman of House Dayne, a sister of the famous knight Ser Arthur Dayne. He had heard stories of her beauty, but until now had never realized how true they were. The guilt sat not on his chest but inside his brain. What he had done he could not undo. He could make amends in subtle ways, but a confession was out of the question. It wasn't until the next morning did he learn that his father had been sworn in as the new King of Westeros, in turn, Ned had been made the official Lord and Warden of the North.

It was then and there that his former actions finally came crashing down on him, he was Lord of Winterfell. His father told him that he was to return to Winterfell, to the North, and quickly set a wedding date to his betrothal Catelyn Tully. He had forgotten all about her in this mess, that he even had been set in an arrange marriage after returning from the Vale. He's had time to think on his actions, instead of sending him straight home his father had him quell a rebellion in the east, and he decided to not say a thing about his...mistake. What's done was done no need to stir up more trouble.

He returned to the Red Keep to report to his father, only to find from the new Hand, Jon Arryn, that his father had taken the Knights and gone north. Ned had told Rickard of Sintara's whereabout, assuming that with the war over there was no longer any need to hide her. He had agreed with his father that perhaps it was time for a new House on the throne. He hadn't known that it would be his father sit on it, like his father, Ned was a man who was simply happy with what he had in the North.

Why Rickard had taken the Throne, he couldn't say, but after learning about what happened to Rhaella, the woman who had made all of this possible, Ned was starting to think that telling his father of Sintara was now a bad thing. He and his men headed to the North three days after them. They rode long and hard, barely stopping for breaks or sleep, and had managed to close the three-day gap between them, turning into hours. Ned had this gut-wrenching feeling that something was very very wrong. If only he knew how wrong.

He was jarred out of his mind when Phantom trotted ahead of them, letting out an earsplitting howl of hello that he expected his mate to return. He's never been that far away nor for such a long period of time from Rakasha. However, the wolf's concern grew to worry when he did not receive a howl back. The wolf turned his head over his shoulder, blood moon orbs looking over at the young Stark for permission to go ahead. Ned kicked his horse into a full run, bypassing the still wolf.

"Heel Phantom." The wolf reluctantly slipped behind the men and horses as Winterfell came into few a several yards later.

They saw around five or six horses lined up at the front of Winterfell, Ned was already swinging off his own horse as Phantom paced restlessly near his side. As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Phantom padded a little behind him as he made his way inside with his men. The sight that greeted him had him itching to grab Ice, the Valyerian steel greatsword and the heirloom of House Stark, but he stilled his hand not wanting to add to the chaos. One of the Knight was on his back, the huge dusty furred she-wolf standing over him with her fangs drawn.

The man had his blade drawn, laying flat on the ground at his side. Whether he'd be quick enough to use it before his face or throat was ripped off had yet to be determined. The young Lyanna was standing behind the wolf, her gray eyes flashed with an unspoken challenge, daring someone else to move. Ravenna stood near the center of the room, her sword drawn clearly ready to use it, but their mother had a firm hold on the Wild Wolf's wrist keeping her still.

"You killed her! After all she's done for us you just killed her!" Ravenna was pissed off like nothing Ned's seen before. The woman was absolutely livid, her hands clenched her sword so hard that her fingers were starting to turn as white as Phantom's pelt. There were veins popping out of her neck and splashes of red started forming and taking over both her face and ears. She wanted to hurt someone, hurt them as bad as she was being hurt right now. The object of the eldest Stark's rage stood a couple of yards away from her.

He seemed to be looking at her, but also like he was looking straight through her. There were two knights flanking King Rickard, the others were nowhere in sight. All eyes were turned to him and his men when Phantom stalked forwards and snarled at his father's Knights. Both men were rather professional, neither one moved to draw their sword but their eyes betrayed their growing nervousness at being on the Albion's radar.

Ravenna had turned her wrath on him as soon as their eyes met, but whatever she was going to say died on her lips as the sound of blades clashing outside drew everyone's attention. Ned was the first to react, darting outside he could hear footsteps on his heel, but ignored them as the bitter wind and frosty climate greeted him as he exited.

There was a huge red stallion dancing nimbly between three blades, the rider on his back had two blades drawn, parrying and blocking like he wasn't taking on three of the Westeros elites on horseback. Ned saw a skillful and noble man, the rest saw a traitorous Knight who needed to be put in his place.

Ned didn't see the blade of the King Slayer get through Arthur's defense and cut through the fabric and into flesh, he did see the man lurch to the left in order to lessen the blow and nearly toppled himself from his horse. The stallion was quick to follow with man's sudden movement and kept him saddled, but the stallion took a slash to the flank in return, making the beast neigh loudly in pain.

In all the commotion, no one saw the second one coming out from the side of the Keep, notching an arrow in her bow. They did see the arrow fly and embed itself deeply within the head of Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. It struck right between the man's eyebrow, he was dead before his body hit the icy earth. The woman stepped fully into the light, a second arrow already drawn and ready to fire.

She wore the same cloak she had worn when she first showed up in Winterfell. A leather bag was hanging over her shoulder, she took careful and cautious steps towards the red stallion, keeping a wary eye on everyone as if she were a mouse in pride of lions. She stopped yards from the horse as Jamie Lannister blocked her path. Sintara Targaryen's menacing eyes were a blazing purple and her dark hood made the rest of her features indistinguishable. She resembled some sort of wildling with the way she stood undaunted by the threat before her.

"Sintara Targaryen." The Lannister spoke in a low yet strong voice that carried throughout the courtyard. "In the name of Rickard of the House of Stark, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. You-"

"I don't give a rat ass what you or your damn Usurper have to say about me. You're all lying, backstabbing traitors. My mother was too trusting, too soft, and now she's dead." The blonde snapped venomously with a glare that could have incinerated.

"Your mother was a good woman with a kind heart. But she was a Targaryen, a hell spawn. I did her a kindness returning her and that demon spawn to the Hells from whence they came." The King stepped forth, maneuvering around those within his path until he stood at the front. The way he spoke with such utter conviction said he truly believed every word that came out of his mouth.

"My time spent in your father's care made me open my eyes, made me see what you Targaryen really are. The things he did, the thoughts and ideas that ran through his head, were inhuman. I shutter to think how long we've blindly turned our eyes away and let your kind rule over Westeros. No longer, Targaryen, it is time to end this." The things coming out of his father's mouth made Ned stare at the man he's looked up to through all his years, respected, and loved like he was a stranger. This was not his father.

It started off soft and grew in volume, turning almost hysterical in nature as Sintara began laughing. "You are a fool, Rickard Stark. There is no end to this, there will never be an end only a beginning. If madness runs through my veins, then I fear for your children and any children after for it doesn't appear like my bloodline is the only one fucked up." Her words were brutal and harsh, the jab was cruel but no worse than Rickard's.

"You spend months with my father, imagine spending years, as his child no less. You took away the one person that got me through all those years! If you wanted the throne, I would have given it to you. I don't want it I never have. You should have left my mother alone! She didn't deserve to die! Sunfyre was just a hatchling, she was innocent. They were the one good things we had in our lives and you took them from us!" Her words went from one thing to another, changing pronouns.

It was getting harder and harder to keep up with the rapid, painful, thought process. The woman suddenly lowered her bow and arrow, her head dropping down almost looking like the fight had drained out of her. Jamie had begun to approach her as soon as the bow was lowered.

Ned found himself whipping out an arm to catch the eldest Stark by the waist, tugging Ravenna against him as she protested in a very violent manner. He was grateful that his mother had managed to take her sword from her, at the moment he was positive she would have speared him with it if she had it. Between Ravenna's struggling and Lyanna screeching something fierce in the background, he nearly missed the Sintara's last words.

"You hurt us, now we'll hurt you." There was an edge in her voice that spoke of promise rather than a threat. That's when the trees started falling from the sky, the first one landed near the knights, forcing them to flee or die. The second one plummeted in front of the Keep, Ned made a swift decision. He threw Ravenna through the doors throwing himself to the side, as he tumbled and rolled across the ground, just barely managed to miss being pulverized by a large root of a huge tree. He rose shakily to his feet, eyes cast towards the sky as a large dragon jetted through the sky.

The black dragon held two more massive trees within his back legs, a streak of red caught his peripheral vision as Arthur Dayne used the distraction to kick his horse into gear, he caught Sintara outstretched hand as he raced past, pulling her up behind him all without having his stallion slow the breakneck pace it had set.

Ned watched in astonishment as the pair raced through the entrance of Winterfell, Sintara shouted something he couldn't pick up from here, but whatever it was had the dragon setting fire to the last two trees and dropping them in front of the entrance. The flames tree both deterred and blocked anyone from entering or leaving, trapping them in Winterfell.

The Lord of Winterfell might have stood there staring up at the sky longer if not for the calls of his coming from inside the Keep. The doors that led inside had been broken, bending inwards and no amount of pushing and pulling would free them. He could hear his mother muffled voice, along with the other three siblings. He felt a rush of relief pour through his system and he exhaled heavily, none of them were dead.

He could feel eye boring into his back, Ned slowly turned to stare at his father who seemed untouched by all of this. The Starks stared at one another, neither face moving an inch. Finally, it was the Silent Wolf who broke first. "What have you done?"

* * *

 **Okay, so I finally figured out where I want this story to go. For anyone who may think I am making too big of changes, don't be. It will all make sense and add up later on. All six(I think) of the Stark Children will be born, the Lannisters will get their turn on the Throne with their(false/fake/incest?) children and all that good stuff. Lyanna, I am not sure what will happen with her, still working that out. Debating on bring Tyrion in now or later(or at all? witty has never been a strong character trait of mine and I fear I will not do him justice if I put him in here) if he does come in here he will become a major player rather quickly and unknowingly to him he'd only be half a Lannister Lion. But yeah, working all this out as I go along.  
**


	18. Heartache and Heirs

Her father's booming voice seemed to shake the walls. It was quickly echoed by the shrill tones of her mother that electrified the air. There were two sets of twig-like arms, one set encircled her waist and the warm breath soaked through her gown and into her skin just slightly above her hip bone. The second pair of arms had snagged her left arm and clutched to it like a lifeline.

Ravenna felt suffocated squeezed between both her younger siblings, it should be their mother doing the comforting, but at this current time, it was partially Lyarra's fault the pair were clinging to her in the first place. This was supposed to be a day of festive and fun, the whole Stark Pack was back together again, however, not even on this day could they be rid of this newfound 'royalty' their father had thrust on them without warning.

No longer were they just a noble house of North, they were king, queen, princesses, and prince, Ned was the only one who got to keep his title as Lord. Every time she heard the title Princess, her heart ached against her chest.

The first day her heartache had rung her out until she was dry inside, no more tears would come. Ravenna's insides still felt as raw as if a winter wind was blowing right through her skin. The last conversation haunted her, taunted her, replaying like an echo. Her appetite had dwindled to nothing. She barely left her room so she wouldn't have to witness life going on as usual. How could it when her world had crumbled?

The second day she was forced out of her room to help her mother make arrangements for the Celebration of Ned's wedding with Catelyn Tully, her father had sent a raven to the Riverlands not long after being named King.

So he was the only one not surprised when the Tully family showed up at their entrance only hours after Sintara's little exit. By then the heartache was like a red hot coal placed in her chest, it glowed and burnt her at the same time, but it did not cool quickly like a coal in water, it throbbed and tortured her in all her waking hours and there was no relief to be found, an insatiable fire that burnt all the oxygen in her body leaving her listless and empty.

By the third day and no one mentions a word about the 'dragonspawn', her ache was more like a thin layer of ice, cooling her insides, a gentle reminder of the pain that came before and a warning not to stoke that fire again. They say once bitten, twice shy, but she thinks for her it's more like forever shy. Ravenna couldn't see herself putting her heart out there again, she didn't think it can survive another inferno.

Or at least that is what she told herself, she wouldn't or rather couldn't exactly admit to herself that there were still feeling that still lingers, concern about 'her' wellbeing, constant anxiety that 'she' was dead or beaten or worse, and the overwhelming fear that Ravenna would never get the truth out of the blonde. It was the bellowing shout that brought Ravenna out of her selfish thoughts, her gray eyes raised to stare across at the newly named King and Queen as they sparred. Ravenna has seen Raksha play fight with Phantom before, this was like that but much more serious. They circled one another like bristling wolves, the fangs were out, it was fighting time.

They traded slur for slur, insult for insult, dig for dig. Lyarra's cold fury burnt with dangerous intensity. Rickard never worries about her frequent fireworks and showers of red-hot sparks, it was these bitterly cold, slow-burning rages that threatened to engulf their relationship. He never argued with his fists but his words packed a powerful punch.

Carefully spoken, without drama, his words had an air of finality to them and no matter how hard she railed against them, nothing would change his mind. Words flew from their mouth that Ravenna never thought they'd even think, let alone say out loud. She knew instantly from the look in their eyes that they'd hit their mark. In that instant, their relationship shattered into glass shards.

Nothing would ever be the same again. Ravenna wanted to leave the hall, however, feared that leaving would draw attention to the very reason her parents were fighting so fiercely, Benjen.

In that instant, their relationship shattered into glass shards. Nothing would ever be the same again. Ravenna wanted to leave the hall, however, feared that leaving would draw attention to the very reason her parents were fighting so fiercely, Benjen.

The celebration had started out nicely enough after the marriage, drinks, food, dancing, and friendly chatter. Usually, beasts like Rakasha and Phantom wouldn't be allowed inside. But Phantom was a war hero and Ravenna had grown increasingly close with the tender, motherly she-wolf Raksha was. There was no time to play anymore when Ravenna was in such a dour mood.

The wolf was always there offering some form of wordless comfort, whether it was just laying in misery with her or letting her roam the world through her eyes. She had not yet mastered the art of warging, she barely knew what it was beyond what little books had to offer. She just knew that when she didn't want to be herself she could be Raksha when she shut her eyes.

It was a nice escape, in the past few days, the two had become very much like Ned and Phantom, inseparable. She had been listening to a tale with Lyanna and Ben about how Ned and Phantom earned the title Crimson Wolf.

Round one between her parents had to of started when she had noted that they were bickering back and forth in soft whispers, but she had paid no heed to it for her parents did not fight often or as far as she could see. If they did argue they did it concealed behind a door, unseen and unheard. She was too enthralled with words coming out of her speaker.

Apparently, by the time Phantom was done tearing apart anyone who dared raise their blade against her brother, the wolf returned from every battle drenched in the blood of their enemies and thus the alias Crimson Wolf was born. Round two was when she had been in the midst of asking how true a tale that was when her father slammed his fist on the table, alarming just about everyone.

Ravenna had looked over in the direction of the ruckus, just as everyone else did, and saw her father like she's never seen before. His face mottled crimson, his eyes popped, his tree trunk neck strained. Her mother remained as still as a cadaver and just as pallid, unblinking against his onslaught of glares. Then with a barely concealed smirk, she turned on her heels and walked away as if strolling in the park on a fine day, and out of the room. Her father had trailed after her and out, leaving Ned and herself to host a celebration that both didn't really want to deal with.

It went alright for about another half an hour until all hell blew over. She had been dancing one dance with Ned, teasing him about his Lordship and of course his new wife, while keeping an eye on both Benjen and Lyarra. Benjen had been talking to a man in black, those of the Night Watch weren't common visitors not uncommon either.

This one had come down to tell them of the dragon they had seen flying past the wall, Benjen had taken a keen interest in the man since then. Lyanna, on the other hand, had drawn so many male admirers it concerned her, but Raksha was being as vigilant as ever and kept watch over the girl. And that is when they came in.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open abruptly, jarring Ravenna out of her stupor and causing Ned to release the hold he had on her waist and hand in order to reach for the sword, Ice, that always remained tethered to his waist. The Knights had gone rigid and tense at the sight of Rickard Stark as he stepped through the open doorway.

There was blood smeared across the right of his cheek and two jagged claw marks slicing the flesh open, it almost looked as if he had been clawed by some animal. The man didn't appear to notice as headed straight for the youngest of Starks, Benjen's unnatural blue-hued orbs were as wide as they could go as he backed up a few paces. Before their father could come within five feet of the boy there was a high pitched, shrill shout, Ravenna would have sworn it had come from a bird.

"Raksha! Don't let him take him!" Their mother came in looking beyond distressed, her dress was wrinkled and her furs out of place.

Her hair had fallen loose from her head, the eyes were bloodshot and it was clear that tears had been falling from her face for they still fell in soft silence. Her neck had a red mark on it, had Ravenna been closer she might have been able to see the fingers that took the outlining of the red mark. All at once everything sort of blew up, Raksha had lunged forwards as soon as she heard the mother, barreling those within her way out of it as she placed herself firmly between Rickard and Benjen. At the same time Knights were drawing blades and in turn, the guards and retainers of the North were doing the same.

A rather heavy-set woman, clearly a Mormont, had caught their mother around the waist drawing her away from the chaos and the pointed steel that every man now had out. Ned remained the unmoving and unfeeling iceberg within the room, and Ravenna unconsciously used him to ground her. Lyanna had slipped away from the men who fancied her and drew near her older siblings, her hand gripped a small dagger that now was regularly in her possession ever since Ravenna had given it to her.

Still, she was young, a fight obviously between her parents was not something she has experienced in her short lifespan, she settled a little closer to the eldest Stark in comfort.

Ned's eyes were weary as like Ravenna, he tried to wordlessly understand what was going on right now. The day had started out grand and now was going to shit. Phantom, who had been slumbering off to the side, had shown up silently and settled on Ned's other side. Every fiber of his body was on high alert as the King placed a relaxed hand on the sword at his hip, it remained so still and mute that Ravenna swore she could hear heartbeats from across the room.

"Ravenna, remove the wolf or I will cut her down." Dread pumped through her veins as heard the grim and dangerous tone coming from her father's mouth.

There was no doubt in her mind that her father was dead serious, he didn't care how much it would hurt her or the pain she's already suffered because of him. He'd kill her wolf regardless of her feelings. She's never dealt with a father like this, this wasn't her father, an imposter wears his face one she barely recognized. She, without much thought to why, opened her mouth to call Raksha away. Her mother interrupted any words that would have left it.

"Don't you dare, Ravenna." There was a grave warning and bitterness in her mother's voice as she shook off the meaty arms of the mormont woman. She stomped up to her husband, the man waved away the knights that tried to intervene and stood face to face with him. "I won't allow it! He's just a baby. You can't take him from me, from Winterfell. The North is all he knows, you take him to King's Landing and he'll never be the same. I won't let that happen, not to my son." Benjen, understanding quickly enough that whatever was going on he seemed to play a vital part in it, slipped out from behind Raksha and made his way over to the rest of the Stark pups.

"He is as much as my son as he is your's, woman." The King hissed back at his wife. "I need an Heir, Eddard is Lord of Winterfell. Benjen is the only one left. He returns with me to King's Landing as soon as I am ready to depart." There was a finality to his voice as if the argument was already done and over.

His wife didn't seem to get that. As the two continued their public dispute Ravenna's mind pieced together what was going on. Father wanted to take Ben from the North... He could not take Benjen to the capital, they would chew him up and spit him out. Ravenna turned her head a little to try and catch Ned's eyes, but reading him like this was like reading a book with no words, impossible.

She wanted to step into the confrontation and state her piece, although remained with the other three as they watched the fighting continued. Her eyes drifted over to her father, Ned had said he was a little different because of whatever he went through under the Mad King's mercy. As she looked at him, really and truly looked at him, she could see it and it was astonishing how no one else could.

The madness. It was there right behind the gray walls called eyes, right then and there Ravenna felt like she was watching the Mad King all over again. Everyone thought that madness ran through the blood like it was something you just inherited from your forefathers, that wasn't false. It was obviously a disease and a contagious one. Could she really let that happen to her brother?

"I'll go." It started out as a whisper, weak and unsure, yet as she glanced at her youngest Stark her voice grew louder until it could be heard over the yells of her parents. "I'll go to King's Landing." Slowly, one by one the eyes turned in her direction as she squeezed out of her small pack. "You can name me your Heir in Benjen's place, then when he's old enough I'll step down and he can claim it."

She did her best to keep her voice strong she couldn't waver in this because her father seemed to be paying some thought to her words. "I'll even marry Lord Baratheon, we can host the wedding in the Red Keep." It felt like her heart was shattering all over again with these words, but Robert was a war hero and had the greatest claim on the throne. The idea of marrying a pig who couldn't keep his cock in his pants was disgusting beyond words, however, if it would save her brother even for a little while she would do it.

"You'll marry Lord Baratheon, no protest?" The deep voice had taken on that normal frosty tone she was used to hearing. Moderately, everything returned to as it once was. She was unable to vocalize her answer and so gave a simple head nod in answer. "Then pack your things, we leave at the first light of the morning." And just like that, Ravenna found herself becoming the first Stark Heir to the Iron Throne

* * *

 **Sorry, the billions of errors with Lyanna's and Lyarra's names, they are a little confusing when typing.**

 **I have some very interesting plans for Ravenna, you might like them you might not, but she can't stay in the picture because Cersei will be showing up. Hopefully, I'm not making this story overly predictable. In the next chapter, we'll be going back to Sintara, the Imp might be making an appearance not positive on it.  
**


	19. Braavos

Her salty tears dripped from her chin and became one with the ocean that lapped her bare feet. Now her tears could flow around the world, into any ocean or sea from this one sandy bay. How she envied them, how she longed to melt away into the ocean and join them. At the very moment, she wished with all her heart that she could become one with the ocean.

The rays from the moon's glare was abruptly blocked out as a thick wing of black leather cast itself over her. She didn't bother turning her head as warm hard scales brushed along the inside of her arm and into her side, clouds of clear smoke were snorted through nostrils that she could of possibly fit her head in.

One large, amber-hued, slit eye stared at her with such intensity it should have made her nervous. She could feel it, everything he was trying to express with that one look. The tears slowed themselves before stopping altogether. She lifted a callous hand and pressed it between the long snout and the small horns that were starting to grow between his snout and between his eyes.

"I know, Brother. I still have you, I will always have you." Sintara whispered, pressing her cheek below his eye and against his cheekbone. It has been a journey for them. She's never flown across the Narrow Sea and without her sworn Sword at her side, everything in this big world seemed so much...more. She pushed her face away from Balerion's and pressed the hand against his body firmly, the expanded wing was drawn back against his side as her small hand ran against the dragon's body.

He burnt like a stove, so hot and familiar it smoothed Sintara's troubled nerves. As the moon returned, she found what she was looking for tied to a spike on Balerion's side. She pulled it from the sheath and let the moonlight show it to her in all its glory. The blade was as pale as milkglass, nothing like dark Valyerian steel, but still strong and sharp.

Dawn, the ancestral sword of House Dayne. The sword wasn't exactly heavy, however. it was much more than what Sintara was used to holding and felt awkward within her grip and so she was quick to return to its sheath.

Ser Arthur Dayne, she was unsure of what through that man's head. She and he had to part not long after reaching the wall. Balerion, as strong and big as he was, still had some growing to do. To carry both of them and Arthur's horse would have been impossible(the man refused to leave without his horse). Even if it had been possible, the man would have none of it.

He insisted that he would not be going with her, told her to fly past the wall and then south from the Narrow Sea to Braavos, he promised he'd find her again, gave her Dawn and told her to present this to the Sealord and then rode off, wounded and all. So against her better judgment, they flew for a while. She's never flown on Balerion for that long, time had seemed nonexistent when you were forcing yourself to keep a never-ending grip on a dragon and the blue sea went on and on and on.

It was night now and perhaps a full day had passed since they had left the North behind, it felt like eons ago. She was not sure where in Braavos they were, just knew that they were there. Balerion had landed at the first sign of land, which happened to be one of the outlying islands that guarded the lagoon of Braavos. She had no clue how she was to cross the water just yet, but she was resourceful so she'd think of something.

"Stay out of sight. I shall call you as always if I need you." A low squealing sound, that oddly enough resembled a child pleading in a whiny tone, escaped the dragon's maw in a form of protest. It was clear he didn't like the idea of her going anywhere without Arthur with her. She grabbed Dawn and hoisted it over a shoulder alongside her bow and quiver.

She would have carried it at her waist, but the sheath would drag on the ground and might damage the blade. "Hush, I'll be fine." She assured, walking back towards the huge dragon head. "Our hearts beat as one, brother. I can not lose you so I can not die. I'll be safe." She rested her forehead on the side of his own, peering into an eye that cast back her reflection. "Now, promise me you will only come when I need you. You can not be seen it will cause us trouble, do you understand?" She waited for a few heartbeats before she got a nod and a begrudging growl. She smiled and kissed a scales above his eyes. "Behave, I'll be back soon." She called, jogging off and out of the dragon's range of sight along the coast of the island.

She walked a mile or two, perhaps more considering her legs were starting ache and a thick fog was growing, she was about ready to head back Balerion, sleep, and rethink of a way to enter Braavos without riding on the back of the large dragon, when the figure showed up. The light of the moon did nothing to help her see further than five feet ahead of her.

She was tempted to draw her bow, set an arrow, as well as shout out a warning. She did none of those things for the fog surrounding her seemed to thicken itself, shrouding the figure from her view until they were totally gone. She might have thought she had finally hit her breaking point if not for the whispers.

The fog itself seem to be whispering little words of encouragement, guiding her this way and that way as she continued walking, thickening and lessening in different areas. She was unable to even go back for a thick wall of fog behind her wouldn't allow it. She walked on and on until the fog left her altogether. She found herself on the lower shore where a simple boat bobbed up and down in the water. Sintara blinked her eyes a handful of time to ensure that what she was seeing was really there when the boat did not disappear after each blink a smile broke out across her face. She thanked both the old gods and the new as she run up to the boat. On closer inspection, she found that there was someone sitting in the boat near the front.

"I've been waiting for you." The man was old, he appeared to have bags of skin falling from his face, wrinkles, and a wart jutting out near his lower jaw. She bypassed his looks for now and settled for a confusing feeling instead of fear.

"Waiting for me?" Sintra was lost she really hadn't expected to find anyone on the island.

"You have something for me to look at?" The raspy voice questioned without answering her. It took her a few seconds before she reached behind her for the scabbard and the sword that sat within it. She pulled Dawn out and allowed the old man to look but nothing more. She wasn't sure if he cracked a smile or not as his lips twitched, yet he was suddenly waving her aboard the boat.

She placed Dawn away and returned it to her shoulder while eyeing the boat, her chooses were limited here and it wasn't like she couldn't take on an old man should he try something. She kept that thought in mind while climbing into the boat and taking a seat. She grabbed both sides as they pushed off the land went sailing on the waves. The ride was sat in silence she had some questions although her stomach was quivering and she feared she'd lose what little she had in it if opened her mouth.

It wasn't long before the stone bridges showed up, connecting to other smaller islands filled with different buildings and homes. The boat stopped at one of the mini-islands and so she adjusted the weapons on her back and got up, stepping off the boat. She looked around at the houses and had no clue where in Braavos she was nor where she was going.

She turned back to ask the old man those several questions running through her head but found the boat empty with no sign of life on it. Where the man had been sitting laid an odd looking coin on the bench. She picked it up and stared at the coin with even more confusion than she had in the first place. The coin was iron and on the front was a...faceless man?

She was well beyond lost, pocketing the coin she felt the only thing left to do was search for a place to settle in for the night and see if she could find this Sealord in the morning. She walked around the houses, coming upon stone bridge after stone bridge and walked over each one. She was moving aimlessly and gradually more and more people began to show up the further into Braavos she moved.

She found herself standing in front of a large fountain and a sign that read 'Iron Bank', recalling something about her father yelling about the Iron Bank and loans her grandfather had with the bank. She faintly remembered something about the Lannisters stepping in and paying these loans for the Crown, which had been rather sad if you asked her.

She was drawn out of her memories when she heard a sound that pushed everything else to the back of her mind. She turned her head towards the sound of music and her feet carried her off in that direction without another thought. She had to cross four stone bridges before she found the source of the music, a crowd that was slowly growing with each passing person, stood off to the side in the streets.

She crossed swiftly and shoved her way into the crowd, the closer she got the more she recognized the instrument playing. It was a harp being plucked rather skillful. Her mother had a harp, Sintara had tried playing on it as a child but the strings often made her fingers bleed and she grew bored of it after too long.

The blonde made sure her hood was still pulled over her head as she pushed as deeply as she was going to get into the crowd. She couldn't see the musician all that well, there were several people much taller than her standing in front. She could hear the voice rolled over the hills in sorrowful waves. Swells of power rose up in the throat.

She couldn't even tell if it was words that came from the singer. The voice was music, and grace, and the haunting feeling of knowing that the voice was brought out in a fit of rage, of pain. As a head moved she caught a glimpse of a tall, masculine frame before it was gone again. Was the singer male? As she listened his voice was smooth and clear and quiet yet powerful. Soothing, in a way. She knew that men didn't really like to be called this but the guy's voice was beautiful. It was the promise of tomorrow.

She was so enraptured with the music and the voice she failed to notice the blade being slipped out of its sheath until she felt the bump of the sheath against her lower back and the sudden lack of weight. Her head snapped over her shoulder and as soon as she saw that Dawn was no longer there, she shoved through and out of the sea of people till she reached the street once again.

Her head snapped back and forth frantically as her eyes roamed every which way until she saw the glint of silver about five yards from her and moving away fast. She decided that if this thief was going to use the lovely music act as a distraction she might as well. She pulled the longbow from her back, draw an arrow within the string, pulled her arm back and let it fly in a fluent and rapid motion.

She was already walking again, putting her bow back in place behind her, as the arrow flew true and hit its mark. There was a howl of pain, loud enough to disturb the crowd listening to the music, but she blocked it out as she caught up to the man who was now crumpled on the ground holding his leg just below the thigh where an arrow stuck out the back. She grabbed the sword that had clattered onto the floor and was hoping to make a clean getaway until she felt the tug on the back of her cloak.

She was violently turned around to face some very large and very hairy man who looked as if he still had some food stuck in the beard on his face. She didn't bother standing around or listening to him she reached for the smaller knife at her waist and quick and simple, trimmed the beard in a slash scaring the man enough to release her. She was off running through the streets, taking whichever path she saw before her.

She couldn't tell if there were feet chasing after to her or not due to the loud pounding of her heart drumming in her ears. The shouting coming from behind her said she was most certainly being chased. This was not how she imagined coming to Braavos, nonetheless, imagination was for the fools and poor or so her father said.

Her legs were starting scream in pain and there was a cramp running up her side. As she turned the corner, an arm shot out and caught her around the waist dragging her backward into the shadows of an alleyway against a solid chest. She was unable to scream as the other hand clamped itself over her mouth and although there was a powerful urge to stab him, the hand around her waist had caught her wrist with the knife and added a painful amount of pressure till the knife fell from her hand.

Sintara stopped struggling at once, never one for pain if it could be avoided. She wanted to nip or bite the hand over her mouth but was a little fearful of being backhanded. She held still in the strong arms, noticing that the man behind her was almost as still as she was which was odd. Her eyes were cast in front of her again as she listened to the footsteps running passed the alleyway, shouts and unheard words followed until the silence came.

Her breaths slowed and her heart beats grew steady with the silence she nearly forgot that she was being held against her will. The arm trapping her and the hand on her mouth was released so suddenly she nearly took a tumble to the stone below.

"Careful." The voice touched her ear and warm breath near her neck as a hand planted itself firmly on her waist until she was right. She wanted to whip around and hit him, but as if reading her mind or her tensed body langue the man was swift to put three or four feet between them before she could pull it off.

"Don't touch me." She turned on her heel and had to bring her face up to look up at the lengthy man in front of her. He was at least a foot taller if not a little more than her. She couldn't see his face very well seeing as he was cloaked in the shadows yet something told her she didn't want to see it. She was ready to leave, giving her back to the man and walking towards the small opening in the alleyway.

She didn't get far, a hand grasped her wrist and pulled her back with enough force to move her without pulling the socket out of her shoulder. This time she did raise a hand to lash out at him, but unsurprisingly he caught hers in his own. She was pushed back against a dirty wall, not as roughly as expected, and no amount of shoving at his chest was budging this guy.

"One kiss." The statement had her head spinning, a kiss? Rapists don't normally ask they take...nothing beyond the Narrow Sea made sense to her. "My payment for helping you." He had that rich, silky tone. He speaks as if he controls the world, his experience seeping through. It made the ex-heiress a little nervous, he wanted a kiss for helping her? "You can go free and cause all the trouble in Braavos after if you'd like." She wanted to test the water and see what would happen if she said no, but wasn't in the mood for games. If she could get out off without getting raped she could deal with a kiss, it wouldn't have been her first.

"Fine then you hav—mmm..." She was cut off as unnaturally warm lips pressed themselves to her own. She was mildly irked with being unable to finish speaking, but even that thought was interrupted as his tongue slipped into her lax mouth and found her own. The man knew how to kiss, she was unsure if it was because he was just that good at kissing or if it was her lack of being kissed that had the heat building in the center of her belly and spreading down to her core.

She was rather sure she might have been pinned to the wall and kissed senseless if not for her need of oxygen. She pressed firmly against his chest with her free hand and shockingly enough he relented and released her lips allowing her to gulp in much needed cold air. She had her eyes firmly shut and wasn't sure when her hood had fallen off her head, but felt his fingers running the long locks of her hair drawing it away from her face.

"I've been waiting for you." Those words drew her out of her daze as she realized just how close they were. The man had dropped his head to rest his forehead against her own, their noses nearly touched. His words sounded just like the man from the boat, how can you be waiting for someone you don't even know.

Sintara lifted her violet-hued eyes up, intending to get the answers she was seeking, she swore her heart skipped several beats when she found his eyes. They were deep and dark indigo in color, expressive and filled with an unconditional amount love she's only seen in one pair of eyes throughout her entire lifetime. She reached up without thinking and pressed a hand against a cheek that should not have been this warm on such a cold night.

"Mother..." The word slipped through her lips before could catch it. In one terrible moment, she truly thought for a brief second that those were the eyes of her mother look at her, but it all came rushing back with a vengeance. The death, the loss, the betrayal! She pushed against the chest once more and he moved, taking a step backward.

She bypassed him and didn't get farther than five steps before that hand was snatching her wrist again and drawing her back. She didn't go as willingly as before, dragging her heels into the ground and yanking back, she lashed out again and this time was allowed to hear the satisfying slap of her hand against his cheek. "Leave me alone!"

"Please, just hear me out." He had stepped out of the shadows and allowed the moonlight to bathe him. There was a soft concerning look in his eyes and a gentle half smile on his lips. He couldn't have been more than a handful of years older than her. His silver hair, which glistens in the moonlight illuminating it, was long falling past his shoulders.

A handsome face. Well-defined, with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones. The complexion of his skin going well with the indigo of his eyes. As if the Gods had molded him just to spoil all eyes. One look and both women and men would swoon at the sight of him no matter their sexual preferences and one word passed from his lips would have even the straightest of men flushing shades of red that no one ever knew was naturally possible.

The word attractive just wouldn't do him justice, he was ravishing. She was stunned and petrified by his appearance that she didn't even move when he closed the distance between. His hand cupped her cheek wiping away silent tears that fell from her eyes. "You're upset, forgive me I didn't mean-" It was his turn to be cut off as she interrupted him.

"Who are you?" She finally asks once her voice returned to her. He chuckled as if something was funny, she might have been a little pissed about his laughter if she hadn't been staring into those eyes, her mother's eyes.

"I was hoping he had told you something about me but I suppose he does like his secrets." When she didn't get a straight answer she was ready to demand one. "My name is Rhaegar Targaryen, I'm your half-brother." She wished she hadn't asked now.


	20. Brother

_I have a brother?!_ The thought kept playing on repeat over and over and over again. She was still trying to fully understand what this meant. Sure, he could be lying yet those eyes of his said otherwise. Sintara knew her mother's eyes, they were the only thing that kept her from falling into despair as a child. Even with Balerion, life as the daughter of the Mad King had not been easy.

 _This isn't right, I don't have any brothers._ This impending thought returned tenfold as she recalled her lack of siblings in her family. Her father was known to take mistresses and bed them, but he was highly against bastards. Her mother was known for her inability to bear children, she was told she had countless stillbirths before Sintara had been born. She couldn't wrap her head around where this man had come from nor how he had her mother's eyes.

She lifted her head from where they had been firmly planted within the clouds, having utterly failed to notice that Rhaegar had pulled up her hood, taken her hand in his own and led the way out of the small alley and into the crowded streets. Her feet had been moving to follow after the man despite the fact she had been in a daze.

Her eyes focused on how their fingers had been entwined before raising to stare at the man's broad back. There was a leather bag, slightly on the large size, settled over his left shoulder. To keep her thoughts from wandering too far in places she really didn't want to go, she wondered what could be in it. It was better than wondering why she was following some strange man with the diluted thoughts that he was related to her, he couldn't be related to her!

It had to of been her mother and her mother wouldn't do that, that would go against every single thing the woman taught her about being a 'proper' queen and wife. It was expected for men to take women to their bed, but the moment a woman had sex with anyone beyond her husband she was a whore, a slut, a harlot and looked down in the eye of the public.

Her mother wouldn't do that to them. She was a dutiful woman, the most dutiful woman Sintara's ever seen. Rhaella withstood the abuse, the slander, the insane accusations, the mistresses, and more for far longer than Sintara. A queen protects her king, she was always reminding Sintara that despite the loveless marriage she was in she had a duty to uphold and - of course - Sintara would understand it when she was older. She was older now and still, she didn't get it.

"Sintara." The low call of her name shattered her thoughts and brought her out of her head.

Those indigo eyes were staring down at her again and she turned her head to look around at her surrounding, anything to keep those eyes off her. The streets were overly crowded as if some sort of festival was going on or market. Rhaegar had pushed them to the side, the sign hanging above said Blue Lantern.

She had no clue where she was right now and the knots in her belly grew as she viewed several unfamiliar faces walking around her. She felt warm fingers brush against her left side of her chin, directing her face back towards the tall man standing in front of her. His hood had been pulled back up over his head, but locks of his white-silver hair could be seen with the way he was leaning over her.

A fire within her ignited with his touch and she quickly jerked her chin out of his grasp and pulled her hand from his and back to her side. "Stop touching me." She growled, mustering up a frosty glare.

Rhaegar wasn't put off with her shift in moods if anything he appeared rather pleased with himself. "Arthur's sword can you give it to me?" He phrased it as a question, however, there was an iron undertone that reminded her greatly of her father. She couldn't comprehend what his angle was but reached behind her take hold of the ice-cold sword grip and took a step backward.

As if reading her mind he grinned, "I'll give it right back as soon as we reach the palace but you can't be seen carrying around a sword in Braavos. It a custom for others to challenge anyone with a sword to a dual, whether they want to or not is not questioned. You will be challenged, and you will lose."

She sank her teeth into her tongue and tightened her hold on the sword grip in mild agitation. She hated being told she'd lose, she was a prideful woman and losing wasn't something she could stand. Being told she was going to lose by someone who knew nothing about her was even more so irritating.

But it wasn't all that was bothering her, how did he know this belongs to her knight, how did he know she needed to the find the Sealord's Palace? Her pride burned stronger then her curiosity and so the words that left her mouth weren't exactly what her brain told her to say.

"How can you be so sure I'll lose. You don't even know me or anything about me!" There was this tilt of his lips and glint in his eyes that told her the man was having far too much fun vexing her.

"I know enough to know that you have no skill or practice in swordplay. You specialize in long range combat, archery, and if you have to get close to fight you use smaller throwing knives or daggers. Sint-"

"Stop it! Stop doing that! You can't talk to me like you've known me for all your life." She dropped her hold on the sword and took two more steps backward. "Stop looking at me with her eyes." She shook her head back and forth slowly all while glaring at Rhaegar as if he were her personal demon, something to haunt her for the rest of her life, another weight on her shoulder she didn't want to bear.

She couldn't handle this, not right now. It was not one of her proudest moments, the Targaryen turned tail and fled. She dived straight into the crowd and simply let it sweep her away. She could hear him calling her name, it was blocked out by the roar of the crowd.

She drifted with the people until her legs started to hurt and the herd thinned out enough for her to push her way out of it, over to another nameless building. At once she found she was once again lost and highly doubted that she had gotten any closer to the Sealord's Palace. As her brain began to work again, she felt her heart slow down and a touch of regret building in her chest. "I should have at least allowed him to get me to the palace before having a temper tantrum." She grumbled to herself. As much as she wanted to pound her head against a stone wall she refrained.

Instead, she fought the urge to just plopped down and bawl her eyes out, she couldn't cry right now there was no time for tears and it wasn't like they would fix all the wrongs in her life. Tears were useless and unneeded, but she still wanted to spill them. She wanted to scream and shout and beg the gods to return what was wrongfully stolen from her, yet the gods don't listen. The old or the new they never listen. Gods like to take and never give.

She pushed herself from the stone she had been using as support, it was getting later and later and she was growing tired. She felt that looking for an inn or somewhere to stay the night would be the best idea. Before that, she needed to check on Balerion. She went back to pressing the majority of her weight against the wall and shut her eyes. Sintara still needed a great deal of practice when it came to contacted the dragon without putting all her senses into it, for now, this would do.

She shut her eyes and envisioned it, the sea and in that sea, there was a string a very thin, measly, piece of string. She had to find that string, grab it, and tug on it. Finding it had been the hardest part at one point in time, now it was grabbing it. It was trying to grab a piece of yarn before it sunk to the bottom of the water. It took her three tries before she latched on to it and pulled, she yanked at the connection until she felt a tug back and then she was in.

She felt his heat as if he was standing directly beside her, there was a discomfort in the stomach area he had spent the time fishing and had slightly overeaten, she felt his concern and impatience tearing through him like wildfire. She felt the strongest urge to laugh at him suddenly, although as she parted her lips it was a soft scream that left instead.

Someone had the back of her hood in their big hand and the long hair hidden underneath it. The connection was violently severed as she was literally tossed at least three through the air. She landed heavily on her back, the sheath of the sword pressed painfully between her shoulder blades and arrows tumbled out of the quiver a few inches away from her. Sintara pushing the ache in her bones away while rolling over so that she was on her hands and knees.

Before she could think about standing a foot is slammed into her back, if the sheath and blade hadn't been there to cushion the blow her spine would of surely either snapped or shattered. Sintara grits her teeth and whimpered, unable to give her attackers the satisfaction of screaming. The weight on her back lessened as the greatsword Dawn was pulled out of its sheath.

"You fucking cunt!" A foot lashed out with the cruel words and connected with her cheek, her head snapped back with the kick that had enough force to roll her on her back again. This time she cries out for not even her dignity could fight this sensation. It hurt, she tasted the blood in her mouth which she quickly spat out along with two of her teeth.

She wanted to wipe away the crimson spit that slithered down her chin, unfortunately, all she could do was scream as a heavier foot pressed harshly into the side of her ribs. She had broken ribs before she's never had them broken so slowly before. He kept adding more and more pressure and she screamed.

It stopped after who knows how long, brown pants and dirty shoes appeared within her line of vision as someone squatted down in front of her. She was back on her belly, trying to get up resulted in her hand being stepped on and more pain to tear through her nerves. She wanted to pull it out from underneath the foot but her hand wouldn't budge.

"You shot my brother you bitch." The smell of cheap ale surrounded her as the man dipped his head low enough to reach her ear. His foot began grinding down on her hand. There was another scream yet this one didn't belong to her this time.

The night sky was eclipsed by massive wings as the dragon descent, a roar bellowed from the sky and spreading a paralyzing venom to all who heard it. The man by her head stood up and backed away from her. She could hear the footsteps retreating, someone was screaming again although it was abruptly cut off.

As Sintara pushed away her pain, she got herself up onto her knees in time to see half of the man lay in an unmoving heap on the ground. Her chest tightened and it felt like all the oxygen in her body had been punched out of her as she stared at what remained of the corpse, his intestines spewed onto the floor in pinkish brown coils, the arteries, now drained of their life fluid, stuck out like so many rubber hoses, red liquid seeping into the floor.

She snapped out of her staring in time to see a gaping jaw full of crimson white fangs shutting as it munched on the torso, arms, and head. She can feel the sweat drench her skin, the throbbing of her own eyes, the ringing screams vibrating in her ears, and the thumping of her heart against her chest. Sintara's fingers are curled into a fist, nails digging into her palm.

She can't hear her rapid breathing but can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of her lungs. Hesitantly, her eyes look past the dead corpse before her, and into the blue eye rimmed with green above her. Fear tortures her guts, churning her stomach in tense cramps. Fear engulfs her conscience, knocking all other thoughts aside. _That isn't Balerion._

* * *

He is almost fully asleep when she calls for him. Usually, he'd be enraged with the fact that she was disturbing his sleep, he'd allow it to slide this time seeing as he has been waiting for her link with him. He allowed her to know what he's been up to since she departed from him. The dark night and the growing fog allowed him to wander the outskirts of Braavos undetected.

He mostly searched through the territory and went fishing, he ate until he couldn't eat anymore and had been ready for a rest when she tugged at the connection. He knew of her confusion, distress, and exhaustion as soon as she opened herself to him. His Hatcher kept her reasoning for such emotions a secret from him, he was unable to probe her mind without causing pain on both ends and so would leave it alone until they were together again.

He was about to alert her of the odd smells that clung to this land when the agony zapped through his body, his front paw, his back, his ribcage, and his jaw exploded with pain. The dragon let out a low growl of discomfort as the pain came and went in the same heartbeat. He was in the air with the next one, sailing higher and higher until the fog no longer blocked his gaze.

His liquid gold eyes had slits for pupils as he waited for the link to surge again, it had been cut out because of the pain. He felt like he was floating there for hours waiting, worrying and agonizing for his Hatcher to call to him. This connection only worked one way, his Hatcher did the calling he could not.

That's when he hears it, the roar is fierce sounding that echoes across Braavos. The intensity vibrates deep into his mind, giving a bone-chilling effect. He was unfamiliar with the what the roar meant, but knew what it comes from. A Dragon. He is folding in his wings and diving towards the sea, his wings expand right before he hits the water and he's gliding at breakneck speed where he sees the dens that float on the water and the two-legged prey surrounding them. He angles his wings so that he is six or seven feet above the small dens as he searches for his Hatcher.

Finally! The link opens again and blind terror claws its way into his chest. He follows this fear and finds her, his Hatcher is on the ground, there is blood, he knew the scent of her blood it was almost sickly sweet. There is a second more rancid smelling blood, he remains oblivious to it until his wings tuck themselves tightly against his body as he landed a few feet in front of his Hatcher, ignoring the destruction his huge body causes.

His eyes take in her new wounds, the blood dripping out of her mouth, and the fear that has her visibly shaking. She flinched as he landed, stuck in some sort of spell, he is forced to look away from her when he feels the wards around his mind ripped apart and a voice press itself into his skull.

 _"You are a fine sight. I haven't seen a male dragon in the last three or four hundred years."_ The voice is old and strong, female and vain. Balerion might have been a little chipper at the sight of the blue female yards ahead of him. She is larger, older, her scales and eyes were the color of sapphires of an intense blue that refracted the light. Her talons and spikes on her neck, back, as well as tail were bone-white.

She had two serrated fangs that jutted out of her upper jaw onto her bottom lip slightly, with white, sharp, knife-like, meat-shearing teeth. Her head was roughly triangular and she also possessed four cheek spines, slightly curved horns and forehead spines between her horns. Her body was more serpent-like with four limbs: two short back legs and two large wings as forelimbs, a body-plan similar to a bat.

She was taller, larger, and ancient, yet none of that matter not right now. His instincts overrode his logic, that and the fact that female had the blood of a two-legged prey running down her maw simply confirmed his thought that she had been trying to eat his Hatcher! No one touched his Hatcher, she was his.

His roar blasts its way through its surroundings, drowning out all other inferior clutter of noise. This is a challenge, unable to express how livid he is in words, he allows his roar to speak for him. It is the sound of raw power, it is the sound of a top predator and it is the sound that evokes primeval emotions and fears. It is a wonderfully free and dominant call, one which screams 'I'm the boss' and challenges all to say otherwise.

If she had any more words for him they are whisked away with his challenge. She is roaring at him and he is charging forwards, slamming all his weight into her body. Her lack of sturdy front legs like he had is her undoing, she is easy to topple over despite her large size. Once she's on her back his maw is parted and fire burning in his throat, he is unable to unleash the flames as those meat shredding fangs sink deeply into his front shoulder, just missing his wing. His pain is intense and he can hear her screaming, howling in pain.

He doesn't have the time to check on his Hatcher, he's too pissed off and the powerful stream of blue fire is erupting from his mouth, his fire burns into the female's chest her fangs are pulled out of his shoulder with a wet sound as it is her turn to feel pain. The flamethrower is cut off as this fierce jerk of the link forces him to turn his head and look at his Hatcher.

There is another mud covered two-legged prey in front of his Hatcher. He can't comprehend what is going on as the mud-covered two-legged prey waves her paw in front of his Hatcher's face and she crumples to the ground unmoving. She's not moving, she's not moving, his Hatcher is not moving!

Balerion leaves the injured female turning to face his fallen Hatcher, yet his body is sluggish, his legs aren't working right and is his mind clouded. He doesn't feel his body slamming into the ground, he doesn't notice the pitiful sound coming from his maw as he tries to reach his Hatcher, his sister, his only family. The only one he has left that matters in this world.

His eyelids feel heavy and he is fighting with all his might to stay conscious, his last thought was that he will set the entire world ablaze if his Hatcher was dead, the darkness takes root as he falls unconscious at last.

* * *

 **So, unfortunately, we'll not be going back to Ravenna or her family for a little bit. Nothing interesting will be going on with her for another year or so and if I jump ahead a year in her part I need to jump ahead with Sintara. There are some things that need to explain in Sintara's part so we're just going to stick with her or now. Honestly, this is not how I planned the story to go at all. I know where I want to go with the story just not how each chapter is going to go to get me there. But anyway I hope you enjoy this one.**


	21. The Dragonborn Comes

A rich, ringing sound flows softly through the room when the harpist plucked the strings of his instrument. There were the full-sounding notes that resonate for a long time. The low harp notes are often used to replace bells. The bottom strings have sufficient volume and reverberation to carry arpeggios. When playing glissandos, on the other hand, these characteristics result in a blurred overall sound and the lowest harp notes intrude on the glissando and are therefore avoided. The middle was a brilliant and warm timbre is characteristic of this register. Notes resonate for one or two seconds.

It is chiefly in this register that chords, harmony, arpeggios, glissandos and melody lines are played. If the harp is given a leading role as a melody instrument in this register and has no support from other instruments, the number of the other instruments must be no greater than in chamber music to avoid drowning out the harp's melody. The highest ones bright, hard, short and penetrating notes. The short decay time of the sounded string, but a general resonance develops from the soundbox, a kind of overall resonance of all the strings.

His thoughts wandered from his harp as a strong gust of wind brought the sea with it. The indigo eyes lifted from his instrument and to the open window he was in front of. He was seated on stone still of the window, back leaning against the side as stared down at the hustle and bustle of the folks below. Darkness had not long ago surrendered to the light, yet he could see the thick grey clouds that were cast over the sky.

The sea was tainted; no longer an abyss of black, nor did it appear blue. Instead, it looked a metallic grey, glistening as the occasional spear of light pierced through the clouds and danced over the surface. He was sure that rain would come with this weather. He thoroughly enjoyed the wetter weather, it was a nice change from Dorne.

It was a faint sound the grew into a light moan of pain which pulled his mind from the cloud. The man's head snapped in the direction of the moan as he slowly rose from where he was sitting. The harp was set down on a nearby table while he walked up to the king-sized bed near the center of the room, the gold, orange, and red of the bedspread made her appear smaller than she was. The indigo eyes roamed along the still body of the slumbering maiden.

The tightening of his jaw and the unforgiving glint in his eyes were all that were used to express his low boiling anger. Those who did not know him well enough saw him as a highly intelligent and talented musician as well as a skilled knight. He was known to be loved by all he's met, very few knew who he really was.

Silence. It follows him everywhere. He often used very few words, preferring to 'speak' in gestures and such. When he does speak, it's usually words he considers extremely important. Any other time, he believes words are evil. They can be twisted to mean something that isn't true, and therefore he refuses to use them unless necessary. While he may not necessarily seem like the nicest man, he hates to be alone.

He enjoys the company of others and gets lonely easily. However, while he does like to be with other people, he still doesn't talk much, and he certainly doesn't trust them unless he's been with them for a while. His temper though very existent is often hidden till he is alone. Then the fireworks begin, and an explosion there is.

Though he hides his sharp tongue in public places he can be as sharp-tongued as a dragon's talon. He is laid-back and maybe a little annoying, and can seem to have two sides; on one he is wise and careful, a piercing gaze seeming to stare right into your heart, and at other times he is calm, carefree, and maybe a little arrogant. But always there is the undeniable sense of his own free will always feeling as though he is being pushed to show his strength, he becomes sometimes to the point of half desperate to be right, to be strong, to be respected.

He is a born leader, confident and brave. Though of a gruff and rather quiet disposition – so much so that he appears almost shy and aloof, speaking only when needing to share something of importance. However, he is neither shy nor overly proud, but instead, a man with a strong silent will of iron, a drive for justice and the fairness of all dealings.

And, while his face may remain stoic, his eyes reveal the tumult of emotions within. He holds his people close, his friends closer, and family of the highest importance. He treats his followers with patience, never one to lash out in due to a job poorly done. He was an interesting man through and through, one with many secrets.

Rhaegar gave a low sigh as he took a seat on the edge of the bed and watched his half-sister sleep. Even with the bruise on the side of her face, the light cuts and scrapes that marred her otherwise perfect features, Rhaegar had no shame in admitting that Arthur had been right. Sintara Targaryen had the type of beauty that wars would be fought over for.

He still to this day wasn't sure when this unconditional love had begun to form...well in truth he knew he had fallen for the woman the moment he spotted her listening to him play his harp. He just hadn't realized just how deep the feeling was until now. It had started off with Arthur giving him reports on his mother, and slowly Sintara and her dragon become the focus of each letter. Rhaegar loved reading, books, poems, music, he enjoyed it all.

When reading Arthur's letters it was like reading a story, it was hard not to get drawn in with each word that was written. Reading about Sintara was like reading something out of a story, her qualities and actions drew his attention and his heart. It had started out as simply admiration for every struggle she went through alongside his mother under the Mad King, something he felt no woman but a Targaryen could even endure.

He had all but wept with rage when he had learned what had happened to her the day she first flowered. It had been a dark day for him indeed. The man swiftly shook the thought from his mind before his rage could consume him, she was here and safe or at least as safe as he could make her.

His eyes went back to the bruising at her jaw and lower side of her face. The maester who had tended to her had told him that although she had no broken bones in her jaw, she had lost two of the molars in the back of her mouth and would be unable to eat any solid foods. Her hand has somehow avoided any broken bones yet was highly bruised and would not be able to be used for some time.

Her ribs were cracked, three of them on one side. The maester had done what he could but Rheagar still needed to have a bonesetter look at her ribs. All in all, he would admit that this was minor for something worse could have befallen her. He was very unsettled with how a mere woman was able to throw off his judgment, his logic, and be ever-present in his thoughts.

This feeling of love, he had yearned for since learning who his mother was, but he would need to be more careful with it. It was a terrifying feeling at the same time pleasant, he feared what would happen if his enemies learned of it. Despite being beloved by most, not all wanted him where he was right now. He had pushed a nice amount of people out of the way to get where he was right now.

He felt more than enemies, what Sintara would do once she realized that he'd give her the sun, the moon, the stars and more if all she did was ask him. The fact that he wasn't seeking her love in return for his own made him feel pitiful. He'd be happy if she was happy. Rhaegar decided that he'd have to be careful and could hopefully succeed in keeping the last Targaryen female at a distance.

There was a knock against the wood door frame that had him leaving the bedside and walking towards the doors. There only two people who would dare disturb him at his quarters, and as he opened the door a woman dipped her head lightly before pushing past him into his chambers. She dared to go no further than the threshold until invited in.

As he shut the door his face remained impassive as looked at the woman who hid her curiosity behind a thinned lipped smile. Zecora was a tall woman nearly reach six feet in height, she had a thin and willowy frame with a decent bust. She looked to be in her late thirties, with skin so dark she appeared to be made of the night. Her hair was long reaching past her waist and was braided into what looked like several small painful, individual, braids. Her eyes were such a dark brown in color they appeared to suck all the light out of the world.

She was a rather exotic sight with the blue gown she had chosen to wear, nearly enough to rival Sintara. Rhaegar noticed the blade she held in her right hand and took it wordlessly from her. The man walked into the spacious room silently allowing Zecora the freedom to roam as she pleased. He left his bedroom to head into a second room used for meetings and council. Arthur's sword, Dawn, was placed on top of a large round table.

He had been so wrapped up in everything going on here he had almost forgotten that he had received any word of Arthur's whereabouts in a while. The man left the sword and return to his room to seek counsel with Zecora only to find the woman hovering over Sintara.

"Zecora." There was a warning in his voice one that was heeded at once as the woman backed away the sleeping Targaryen. Rheagar led the way into the meeting room and shut the doors behind him. "Stay away from her." He spoke as the doors clicked shut.

"I only wish to help, Master. I can heal her wounds in a matter of hours if you'd allow me to-" The woman had a slight accent that was unheard of in all of Westeros and Essos. Her words were cut off as Rhaegar waved a hand dismissing them.

"If you touch her, Zecora, I will cut out your heart myself and feed it to Sapphyre." There was a quiver in the woman's bottom lip and a great amount of tension in her balled up fists, but she managed a light nod at the threat. Zecora was Rhaegar's first in several things, it was through her that he had met his own dragon and realized he was destined for more than a simple ward of Dorne.

It was through her that he had achieved everything that he had now. The woman was always at his side, so frequently that many suspected that she was his mistress. They were right to a point Zecora was often used to warm the man's bed it was safer to sedate his urges with her than a random whore, but somewhere in this unusual relationship of theirs, Zecora believed them to be lovers. She wished to be his queen.

The woman was possessive and spiteful, swiftly take out anyone she thought was a threat to their 'love'. She says she came from Sothoryos and was often called a Witch Doctor or the Voodoo queen. The woman had lived so many lifetimes she had long ago forgot her true age. Because of her, so many women and even men have suffered a rather terrible and cruel fate as well as death.

Rhaegar was well aware of Zecora true nature and knew what she really was, a Dragon Shamen. A woman who taught him everything he needed to know about Dragons, what history she had of them, and how to care for them. Zecora had made a pact centuries ago with his dragon, Sapphyre, and still lived today to tell of it. She was needed but knew she would slowly become expendable with Sintara here.

"How is my dragon?" His tone of voice became gentle and concerned with the question. Sapphyre's chest had suffered some serious burns from the young male, Balerion. He hadn't know dragons could burn till now, the fire Balerion could breath was unheard of even to Zecora it had scorched off Sapphyre's scales and singed her flesh.

"She is healing just fine. I placed a poultice on the burns to smooth the pain and hasten the healing process. She's not happy with it, but is heavily impressed and, like you, is infatuated with the male." Zecora had been hoping that the dragon would side with her deal with the matter of the girl, but it would appear that she was alone. "Wouldn't it be easier if we moved her to the Maester's Quarters?" The woman hid her disdain at seeing the girl sleeping in her master's bed as if she belonged there.

It was Zecora who had stood at Rhaegar's side even as a child, she served the Dayne family but was always attentive to Rhaegar's needs before any other. She was the one who saw his greatness long before anyone else, she was the one who deserved to be at his side.

"No, she is safest here where I can watch over her." His tone of voice allowed no discussion with the matter. Rhegar was growing tired of her never-ending jealousy, he's told her numerous times that he held no ulterior motives beyond fucking her. He had tolerated her excuses and outlandish actions before, even going as far as monitoring how much time he spent in the presence of the of others, but he was growing annoying and tired.

He would not tolerate them any longer, certainly not with Sintara. "Have you seen Arth-" The loud and audible thump cut him off as his head snapped in the direction of the closed door leading to his room. If he had to take a guess she had just fallen off the bed, a feat difficult even for him. He pushed pass Zecora to head back into the other to deal with a probably very ticked off she-dragon.

* * *

He wakes suddenly. No sleepiness, no slow warming up. Within seconds of realizing he was unconscious he is on his feet, eyes wide, dreams not just forgotten but erased. He's drinking in the feedback of all his senses. It was cold, darkness wandered at every turned of his head. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness he noticed the stone walls that surrounded him.

His ears picked up the sound of running water not too far away and the scent of another within the enclosed area. He was in a massive underground chamber, a cave or cavern of sorts. This was someone's den, he didn't care all that much for who's right now he was more concerned with the whereabouts of his Hatcher, the last he had seen her he was sure she had fallen still. Those that fall still were often dead.

Balerion made to walk around, the rattling of chains caught his attention as he finally noticed the heavy weight on all four of his legs. He lowered his head to see the large shackles latched on to one, he was chained in here!? He let out a low snarl of distress hating the fact he was stuck, over the last year he had gotten used to the freedom of constant moving and living in the wilderness.

Being chained had him remembering the day he had been dragged away from his Hatcher and locked away, awaiting death. He refused to sit and wait like some bird-prey for the slaughter. He was going to get out, find his Hatcher, and leave this place it was not safe.

The young dragon began to walk forwards until the chains tightened and the cuffs put pressure on his ankles. He continued to move forward as pain tore through his scales and bit into the soft flesh underneath. This hurt a great deal, he felt the link briefly open assuring him that his Hatcher was alive but in a great deal of pain, some because of his actions now.

It was slammed shut suddenly leaving him with this hollow feeling. He stopped pulling and tug, growing more determined with this knowledge that his Hatcher was very much alive, he turned his head and parted his maw ready to gather fire in his gullet and burn through the metal.

 _'Stop that! You'll hurt yourself.'_ The voice boomed within his head and had him shutting his eyes and taking a step backward, the fire dying before it could begin. He heard the wing beats and felt the vibration through the earth as she landed at the mouth of the cave. Once he had shaken his head enough to regain his thoughts he parted his lips and exposed his fangs as a blue head and long neck appeared from around a corner.

The blue female walked into the darken area taking up a great deal of space which forced Balerion to back up a few more paw steps for her, immensely disliking giving ground to the female. He continued to growl and snarled at her and didn't even stop when she dropped the body of a young doe on the ground.

He could feel a pang of hunger ripped through his belly yet ignored it. When he didn't even stop to sniff at the fresh meal she had spent a decent amount of time hunting, Sapphyre's patience grew thin with his little act of defiance She had spent precious time hunting for something to feed him even with the scorch wound on her chest and he repaid her by snarling and growling, such insolence! What an impudent little brat!

 _'Where is my Hatcher?! What have you done to her?'_ It was Balerion's turn to drive his thoughts, anger, and hostility into her mind. Sapphyre, caught off guard by the attack, flinched slightly before tensing her body and standing tall. She knew he was just worried about the human that had gone with her Rider, but her pride and arrogance would not allow her to sympathize right now.

Females tended to be more aggressive, vain, and far more prideful than males, in the days when dragons were plentiful in the wild, the females were so formidable, it was considered among the bonded dragons a great achievement to mate with one. Such knowledge would be lost on someone as young as Balerion, but as far as Sapphyre was concerned he should be more than grateful for the chance to bask in the presence of the most beautiful creature in all of Westeros.

 _'Do not question me youngling, or you'll get more than just nip this time.'_ Sapphyre referred to the wound in the male's shoulder. She was expecting him to shut his maw and accept what she had brought, eat it as a sort of peace offering so she could explain to him what was going on, and then take him to this human female he was so concerned about. That did not happen.

 _'You can try if you'd wish, old one, but I dominated you the last time I think it's you who needs the warning.'_ Even in the darkened cave, he could see the mark he had left her. Where once beautiful blue scales rested, an ugly blacken patch of scarred flesh sat, the scales that once protected the skin had fallen off dying due to the intense heat blasted upon them. Whether the scales would grow back or the wound heal, Balerion was sure that it would scar forever.

A blemish on the once most beautiful creature in Westeros. The blue female had lost all her patience by then. She parted her maw and let free a roar that shook the walls above arched another hundred feet up to giant stalactites that swayed unsteadily with the sound. Before either could get into a roaring match, something new claimed both their attention and had their heads swinging in the direction of the voice.

"Balerion!" The voice was higher pitched and breathless filled with exhaustion. The pitch black male recognized it still, it had his heartbeat quickening and his mood lifting. Behind the blue dragon's bulk, his Hatcher appeared, bruised and battered, but alive. It looked as if every step she took was painful and he could smell her fear at the sight of the blue female, she masked it well as she limped over to him.

He radiated delight as he lowered his head and pressed his snout lightly against her small frame. He could tell that even the action of hugging him was hurting her, Sintara endured just to make sure he was really there.

"See, girl, I told you he was just fine." The accent drew him away from his Hatcher and towards the speaker. He couldn't fight the instinctive urge to tear the mud-skinned two-legged prey to pieces. He unconsciously drew his Hatcher closer to him and snarled at the two-legged prey. There was a touch of satisfaction building in his chest as he watches her cringe with shock and takes a step or two backward.

The blue female stepped forwards and growled at him again, as much as he would like to challenge the female he was more conscious of the chains that had him tethered and the fact that his Hatcher was with him.

"Enough Sapphyre." This voice, it was low and soft but powerful and commanding enough to send chills through a body. The two-legged prey attached to the voice looked highly similar to his Hatcher yet at the same time not. The blue female, to his surprise, submitted to the two-legged prey's order and backed down reluctantly. He remained watchful and on guard, yet stood down and lowered his head so that it rests on the cavern floor allowing his Hatcher to brush her fingers along the scales of his cheekbone.

"No more games, Rhaegar, you promised." One eye fell to his Hatcher as she addresses this Rhaegar, Balerion would do his best to remember that one's name. The fact that he had made the blue female bend to his will was a two-legged prey worth remembering.

"I did, Sintara, and I am a man of my word. I will tell you everything but you must keep an open mind about this." Rhaegar sounded troubled by this.

"After all I've been through I highly doubt anything could sound crazy right now."

"What about a war between the living and dead, between fire and ice, and that you are the Dragonborn?"

* * *

 **So next chapter I will explain what a Dragon Shaman/Zecora is, tell a little more about this war because it's not going to be exactly like the one going on in GOT right now(I think my ideal war it's a little cooler). The Dragonborn is not like the one from Skyrim, besides the name it has nothing to do with Skyrim. I am terribly sorry for any of the errors, again no beta.**

 **I did not mean to make this into an incest story, but I love Rhaegar and felt like he didn't get enough justice in GOT, but due to the changes I made I wasn't sure how to make him fit in here. So he became a love interest of Sintara's, as well as many other things(if you haven't noticed he is the Sealord) he'll play a vital part in the story to come I have no plans on killing him off at the moment. Sadly he will never get the chance to meet Lyanna Stark.**

 **Thank you for all of the favorites and followers, I honestly like seeing that people are interested in continuing to read this over getting reviews(although those are greatly appreciated). All in all just seeing one new reader fascinated with this story keeps me writing, so again thank you all.**


	22. Gods and Goddesses

**So this is something to keep in mind if you'd read this far you know that I like to change things up. For this chapter, for some reason, I don't know why I think it will either make it or break it. This is mostly going to focus on the lore. This will not change everything in the game of throne's lore, but this is me putting a spin on where some of our more mythical beings come from.**

 **It won't explain everything, just some things. I like the spin I put on GOT and shockingly so do some of you. But anyway, the point of this is me just asking you to keep an open mind(please don't drop this because the lore is a little odd it's not going to play a huge part in the story). I have an outlandish/creative mind, and this the result of it. This going to be a longer chapter because I'm putting a lot in it.**

* * *

Damn every god out there! This fucking hurt! Pain throbbed through every single nerve in her body, even her teeth hurt. She didn't notice the tears slipping out of her eyes as they ran down her cheeks in rapid succession, the pain was that great. Sintara wasn't really sure how long she laid there writhing in agony it seemed like eons but in reality was only a handful of minutes before she found herself airborne.

She literally felt whatever food and acid in her stomach rise up from her belly, hit her throat, and touch her tongue before it went back down. Vomit in her mouth, disgusting. She let out a stifled whimper as every jostle sent ripples of pain through her ribs, back, and head, being set down on the bed did nothing to change that.

She kept her eyes closed, not because she didn't want to see where he was, but she thought it would hurt too much to open them. Ten seconds passed, and then twenty and thirty, and finally the pain started to pull back like the tide going out. She let out the air she had been holding in her lungs, it didn't feel good to breathe or even open her mouth but she could tolerate it.

She peeled her eyes open slowly and looked in the direction where she felt the presence hovering over her. She really wanted to say, mother, although managed to bite it off as the head above her tilted itself. The handsome face and lovely eyes were definitely Rhaegar's but this Rhaegar wasn't the same one as she had met early in the day...was it still the same day?

The woman decided to ignore the grim man and turned her head to search for a window, she spotted one with a harp lying nearby a table. It was light out just not exactly sunny. Feeling lost and suddenly irritated her eyes roamed the woman, noting the odd woman in the background before returning to the dour man. "Where am I and where the hell is my dragon?"

She got a lip quiver from the man, but beyond that, his face remains impassive. This man and the man she had met earlier really were like day and night, two-faced. She didn't like it.

"Does it hurt?" There was that iron tone in his voice again like he was expecting an answer to his question. Those eyes of his betrayed his solicitude with her well-being that and the thumbs that wiped away stray tears. This little...thing whatever it was remained her of how many times she cried over or in front of this stranger. Like any normal Targaryen, she jumped straight into anger and slapped his hand away from her face with a scowl.

"Stop touching me, Ser." She snapped a little harsher than intended he drew his hand away from her face. The eyes looked a little hurt, she felt a little guilt although disregarded the feeling since she hadn't done anything wrong. The pair stared at each other before Sintara blinked and turned her head away from him. No one was answering her questions and she wanted to find Balerion.

She was sure she had seen him...yet she wasn't certain if that had been a dream or not. She pushed to the side of the of the large bed and swung her legs over, she didn't bother complaining about how much that hurt and carefully pressed her feet against the flooring. Trying to stand resulting in her legs buckling due to her weight and she went down harder than she was expecting.

She managed to land harshly on her knees as her hands shot out in front of her before her face could connect with the floor. Gritting her teeth, she withheld her scream until her sensitivity dimmed itself and she could open her mouth to breath without howling. By the time she got herself together again Rhaegar was crouching beside her.

"I know you're mad and I know you're confused but I need you to trust me." He pleaded, but it was one that fell on deaf ears. She pushed herself off her hands and knees so that she was sitting on her bottom, one arm wrapped lightly around her injured torso.

Her hair cascaded around her body like a platinum blonde curtain as she stared down at the hand that had been stepped on. He was asking a lot, trust wasn't something she gave anyone anymore. The last one she had trusted had stabbed her in the back more times than she could count. They took her throne, killed her mother, broke her heart, and more. There was no reason for her to blindly trust him, there was so much he wasn't telling her, too.

"Tell me everything. I want to know about that dragon, who you are, how you know me, and you will take me to Balerion." She wasn't expecting him to give her everything easily. He was hiding something from her, it seemed like everyone was hiding something from her. "Then I promise I'll try and trust you." She vowed.

She lifted her face to set her lavender hued eyes onto the troubled indigo ones. He didn't look as if he wanted to tell her anything at all. Still, the moment his eyes shifted away from her own she knew she had won this little battle. He wordlessly got up from his crouch and beckoned the woman draped in blue over to him. Whatever was said went unheard by her ears and had the woman casting a bitter glare at her before sweeping out of the room. Sintara tensed a little as she heard the door slam shut behind her.

"I don't think your mistress likes me." She commented into the silence that had settled around them.

"She's just upset that I've taken more of an interest in you than I ever have with her." Rhaegar did not bother denying her hidden accusation as he turned to look at her. The Targaryen woman put on her best 'you've woken the dragon' face which Rhaegar was utterly immune to much to her disappointment.

"Are you going to help me up?" Sintara was very reluctant to ask this and made sure it was known within her voice.

"You told me not to touch you." The stoic facade dropped for a second so that the handsome man could get a smirk in as Sintara glowered and groaned in exasperation.

"Very well, I'll take it back. Now come help me up." The amused man dropped to a knee and lifted her up into his arms, highly aware of the pain this caused her, and set her back down on the bed. The door of the room opened up not a second later an older man along with that woman walked in.

"Lord Blackfyre." The name the maester spoke has Sintara looking between the old man and Rhaegar. The words passed between them go over Sintara's head for she is too deep in thought. Blackfyre, those unschooled often believed the name Blackfyre was the surname of a bastard for House Targaryen. In reality, Blackfyre was the name of a blade, the ancestral sword of her house that had been used by the very man who had conquered all the seven kingdoms.

That sword had been passed to a Bastard Targaryen whose surname had been Fire, he changed his last name to Blackfyre and created House Blackfyre. That sword had been long ago lost and the name should have been forgotten seeing as House Blackfyre was no more.

"That hurts!" She hissed out through clenched teeth while jerking away from probing fingers. The old maester paid her whines no mind while finished up his examination. He brought a cup of some disgusting smelling liquid to her and told her to drink it. She was getting into quite a mood having never liked being probed and poked or told what to do, so she was very much ready to throw this cup at his face and tell him she'd rather drink her own piss until he told her it would numb the pain. She tolerated the nasty stuff and forced it down her throat.

"If you want a faster recovery I would suggest not moving her at all." The ex-princess had a hand over her mouth in hopes of deterring the urge to throw up as Rhaegar and the maester debating about her going anywhere.

"Leave us." Rhaegar, choleric with aggravation, told the maester. It would appear that he disliked being told what to do by maesters as well. After the man left Rhaegar left the bedroom for a moment and returned with a blade strapped to his waist. Sintara worked on gagged on nothing for a few seconds longer and then it was time to go. Sintara was carried in a way that she hasn't been carried in since she was very small, piggyback.

She wrapped her arms lightly around Rheagar's neck as they left the room behind and moved down a spacious hallway. Wherever they were it was big. She felt more childish than ever but pushed her pride to the side for now seeing as it couldn't be helped.

"Lord Blackfyre?" She asked forthrightly and wanting an answer to that now.

"I was born in Dorne, I had the surname of Sand for the first eight years of my life. When I was nine I was told who my mother was and that she had legitimized me right after my birth. It was kept a secret for my safety. When I came to the Bravvos I could not keep the last name Targaryen, so I took the name Blackfyre after my sword when I became Sealord." There were a great many details he was leaving out, Sintara left them alone seeing as she more concerned with looking at the blade he wore and the fact that he just said he was Sealord.

That sword had been lost to her family for generations, how did he get his hands on it? She couldn't see it because they were going down a great many stairs and leaning over hurt. There were more questions that needed answering yet the change in their surroundings claimed her attention. The world itself was darker, damper, and smelt like a cave.

"There is a cave underneath this place?" She exclaimed, Rhaegar didn't answer but she felt the vibration along his back as he chuckled softly.

"It was already here when I came to power and was made a little larger to accompany the size of the First Sword of Braavos." He answers, stopping to place a hand against the cave wall for balance as a thunderous roar shook the cave. It was a sound that Sintara knew well. Rheagar took a knee to let her down when she began wiggling on his back. As soon as she was down she around the corner and throwing her arms around her dark dragon in a sweet reunion.

* * *

Rhaegar observed the reunion between the two with a half smile. _"Well, that not something I see you do often. Not even for my servant._ " The quizzical voice brush within his mind with a feather light touch. Rhaegar looked at the blue beauty as she settled herself on the ground, slightly irked with something. He grins as she let smoke blow out through her nostrils and growls lowly at him.

It was impossible not to tell that she was in a bad mood, Balerion must be trying her patients. Rhaegar walks over to dragon and presses his hand against the inside front of her chest so that she lifts up her enormous crown to allow him to look at her chest. He presses his palm as gently as he can against the singed flesh of her chest cavity.

Sapphyre often took great joy out of telling him of her solo adventures long before his time. During what she called the Dragon Age, a time when dragons were vast in number and 'ruled' the world. She said she had fought a great many dragons before and supposedly has never lost a battle. Yet a mild squirmish with Sintara's dragon and Rhaegar was starting to rethinking that.

He was told since he was a child that dragons are fire, fire given form as flesh: it is said that "fire cannot kill a dragon". The bodies of dragons are very resistant to fire, but Balerion's fire burnt through his older and larger dragon. "How is this possible?" He muttered more to himself than to anyone.

 _"I'm still trying to figure that out as well. His blue fire is unlike anything I've ever seen or felt. I can turn flesh and bone to ash within seconds of contact with my fire. His is hotter and will only get stronger with age."_ Sapphyre tail's lashed against the cave floor as she sent her thoughts to her little rider. Rhaegar had nearly forgotten about Zecora, the thick accent that cut through the cave reminded him of her presence.

He didn't catch what was said yet saw the effect it had on the dark male as the black dragon growled at the Shaman. It prompted Sintara to stand up for the woman who's served her for that last several millenniums, in turn, provoking Rhaegar with her immature behavior.

"Enough Sapphyre." He chastised vocally while adding mentally, _"Do try and act your age._ " Those words alone were enough for Sapphyre to back down, she hated being treated like the younger one between the two of them.

"No more games, Rhaegar, you promised." His attention was reclaimed by the Targaryen resting in her Dragon's embrace. He recalled the first time he had met Sapphyre and asked how she knew they belonged together as rider and dragon. 'Souls recognize each other by the way they feel not the way they looked' He believed he understood what she meant now.

"I did, Sintara, and I am a man of my word. I will tell you everything but you must keep an open mind about this."

"After all I've been through I highly doubt anything could sound crazy right now."

"What about a war between the living and dead, between fire and ice, and that you are the Dragonborn?" He expected the look of skepticism on her face, yet decided against reminding her to keep an open mind. He didn't understand how that was so hard to believe when they had two dragons right in front of them. "Listen to Zecora and then you may ask whatever you want." He told her as the woman stepped a little around Sapphyre's leg to be seen, agitating Balerion who was hushed by Sintara with a tug of a horn on the side of his head. This all seemed to be going according to plan for now.

* * *

Zecora was very displeased, although did her best to hide it as she was called forth. She gave a light bow of her to the pair before opening her mouth to retell the tale that she's been telling for generations.

"Eons ago, the world and all of its splendors were created by the magnificent and all-powerful being simply known as the "Creator." It wove the threads of life, and upon creating the very land we stand on, spotted it with its most cherished life-form: man. Having gifted mankind with all of its blessing and necessities, the Creator simply watched as man forged his own path in life, and over the decades crafted himself into a race of truly wondrous individuals numbering in the millions.

The Creator, however, grew tired of this creation, and thus gave life to three goddesses, Anheia, Damera, and Etana. The three sisters created beings of their own. Etana, the oldest and the most peaceful of the two took the form of the Tree of Life and gave 'birth' to the most innocent beings she could think of, the Children of the Forest.

Anheia, the most envious and hateful of the three made the Land of Always Winter, creating the cold, the darkness and the death in the form of White Walkers. It is said she killed Etana, turning the once fertile land inhabited by the Children of the Forest into the barren wasteland of ice and snow. When the Creator's children, the First Men, came to Westeros war was waged between the Children and the Men.

Peace was eventually found between the two, peace that did not last long as a new war came when Anheia sent her Walkers to claim dominance over both races. It was the man's champion, the last hero who went out and sought the help of the Children. Together they just managed to drive the White Walkers off but at a cost. The Children, having never been a large population, took heavy losses within both wars and their numbers had greatly decreased, they remained around long enough to build the Wall in the North, yet all but vanished after that.

Damera, the youngest and most prideful of the goddesses watched as her sister caused chaos and death to both races and vowed to make her life forms strong enough to fend off death, the darkness and the cold. She refused to die out like her sister. She gave her life forms the same form of man but gifted them with a pale complexion and white (platinum blonde) hair with purple irises.

She called them Valyrians, to protect these Valyrians she created Guardians in the form of massive flying fire-breathing lizards called Dragons. In time the Valyrians bond and mount these dragons, those select few who managed to mount them became known Dragon Riders and even managed to be granted an immunity to fire thanks to their Dragons' magic. It was credited to the Valyrian Dragons riders and the Dragon Lords that within five millenniums their home, the Valyrian Freehold, became the greatest civilization of its time. Damera watched her people thrive with great pride, but all great things must come to an end.

Unhappy with Damera's ignorance and selfishness, the Creator decided to punish her. He sent a prophecy to one noble Valyrian family and sent 'the Doom' a massive volcanic eruption to the Valyrian Freehold where it laid waste to the Valyrian capital, its people, and the surrounding lands. The Dragons, which many believed were killed in the eruption were in truth forced into slumber.

The Valyrian peninsula itself was shattered and the ocean came sweeping in, becoming the Smoking Sea. Valyrian recorded history, spells, and knowledge were lost, but the Dragons, encased in magma, are said to of sunken to the bottom of the sea.

Anheia, angered by her loss and envious of her sister's dragons and the Creator's men, coming down to Westeros. She took the form of a beautiful White Walker with the brightest blue eyes. She seduced a human, the Thirteenth Commander of the Night Watch, on the Great Wall and named him her Night King. Together they took over the Wall and all those in it, renaming it their Nightfort.

The Night King and his Night Queen ruled for thirteen years until once again Man turned on them and forced them to retreat to the Land of Always Winter. The Night King became the leader of the White Walkers, with the power to turn Man into White Walkers, to raise the dead, and more he became a fearsome being. When his Night Queen, Anheia, gave him mounts worthy of his title, Ice Dragond, he swore to her he would give her the world.

With the last of her power waning, Anheia needed to sleep, to keep watch over all she had created she gave 'birth' to a son, the Great Other the god of darkness, cold, evil, fear and death, before slumbering inside the moon.

Damera, sadness and enraged by the loss of her creations, prophesied the coming of the Dragonborn. Blaming Anheia for her loss, she vowed to wipe Anheia and all that she created from the face of this world. The day the Dragonborn came to the world would be the day the dragons wake from their slumber and together they would melt the ice and cold that threatened the living.

In her last act of defiance, she bore R'hllor, a god of light and love and joy, to watch over all in her stead before she fell to sleep inside the sun's warm embrace.

It is foretold that another great war is to come against fire and ice, that the Night King will gather his forces and march on Westeros mounted on dragons of ice. Only the Dragonborn can stand against the dragon of ice, it is said that the Night King, only by the hand of the Prince/Princess that is promised, will perish, united they can beat another Long Night forever."

* * *

Sintara listened to the tale politely even though most of this she had learned about in her teachings. This one seemed to be a different version of the story. She was somewhat knowledgeable on the Lord of Light, but this Great Other was a new one. She was still debating on how much all of this she believed. The idea that dragons were still alive was possibly the hardest thing to wrap her mind around. This also did little to nothing about answering all her questions, she had listened so now it was time for actual answers.

"Who are you?" This one was directed at the woman before her. Sintara knew she was Rhaegar's mistress yet she seemed more important than that.

"My name is Zecora, I have served my young Lord for years-"

"That's not what I asked." Sintara interrupted, her solemn voice thick with condescension. If she could sit up taller and raise her rib cage properly it would have been done. She was growing very tired of being left out or lost on everything, she had been taking for a fool once and she wouldn't allow that to happen again. "You were there when Balerion fought with the blue one." She tipped her head in the direction of Sapphyre. "He remembers you and he doesn't like you, to be frank, he wants to burn you alive." To emphasis her words, the dragon let a humming growl rip through the back of his throat. "Who are you really?"

 _"She is a Dragon Shaman and my servant. If you know what's good for you, little one, you'd do well to hold your tongue with the threats."_ It was low, rough and almost raspy, yet it held a feminine quality to it. The voice in her head had her furrowing her eyebrows and looking at the blue dragon. The larger beast was resting her head on the ground, but one eye remained open with the slit of a pupil gazing directly at her.

 _"Yes, I am talking to you. Your_ _knowledge on dragons is little to nothing. I see."_ The haughty voice was a little vexing. _"The older the dragon the stronger it becomes, magic runs through our veins,_ _fortunately, we do not have_ _the right mouth structures so speaking your language is not an option. We've developed an alternate way of communicating. We don't need to waste our breathe speaking such a barbaric language and you don't need to waste what little brain cells you have trying to learn ours'."_

The former heiress might have been greatly impressed with the fact that she was "talking" to a dragon if it wouldn't for the constant insults. She knew that dragons were vain, arrogant, prideful and more yet Sapphyre was just plain mean. Sintara inhaled the best she could with her ribs and exhaled slowly, fighting the urge to butt heads with a dragon who she had recently seen devour a person.

"I wasn't threatening her I was merely speaking the truth. Balerion wants to burn her alive, just like he did you. For someone so old and strong you burn rather easily." Dammit! She couldn't resist it and quickly regretted it. Her eyes were unable to keep up with rapid movement from the livid dragon as she lunged for her.

She could feel the hot breath fan across every inch of visible skin as incisors as long as her body missed her by a hair. Balerion had placed his leg directly in front of her. Sapphyre sank her razor-sharp fangs directly into the limb, the flimsy scales did little to nothing against the vicious bite of the cerulean female. The scream that left Sintara's gaping mouth was the loudest most piercing sound she's ever made.

It was virtually unheard next to Balerion's shrieking roar of pure pain. Pissed as all hell, the male went straight for the exposed neck that was stretched out. He opens his maw as wide as he could and clamped down around it. He was unable to cut through the thick scales that protected the vital area, but that didn't stop him from adding pressure and basically suffocating the female, she released his leg yet he didn't let go of her neck.

He was like a dog with a bone, obviously having every intention of killing the female. In retaliation and a little bit of panic, Sapphyre swung her body, lashing out with her tail to slam it into the side of his head. His skull went sideways along with the rest of his frame as he lost his grip on her neck, he winced feeling his shoulder collided with the cave wall.

"Sapphyre!" The only thing keeping the two from continuing their battle and possibly causing a cave-in was the voice that boomed, vibrating with authority. Sintara was unable to hear whatever else Rheagar was saying, she was sitting directly underneath Balerion's body. At thirty-two feet long, ten feet tall, and over twelve thousand pounds, if he misstepped it wouldn't be hard for him to kill her.

The young dragon was very conscious of tiny human below him as he careful seats himself on his haunches, similar to a dog sitting, and lowers his neck to inspect her. She pushes his face away when she feels his muzzle brush against the top of her head, she's not mad the agony is just overriding every sense in her body.

The entire cave shook with the growl that bubbled from Sapphyre's bloody maw, she fled as ordered by her rider with what little dignity she had left. Sintara and Balerion paid no heed to her, Sintara was still trembling with pain and Balerion was working on cleaning the new bite mark in his leg. The beast swung his head around when he heard the feet drawing closer, blocking Rhaegar's path to Sintara, he dragged his serpentine tail around his lower legs effectively shielding her from sight.

He wasn't in the mood for sharing and he made that clear by baring his fangs at Rhaegar. The man stood undaunted by the displace of ferocity and merely looked at him. The two stared at each for a few heartbeats longer and then Balerion backed down, he stopped snarling and unwrapped his tail allowing Rhaegar access.

He was quick to bend a knee and inspect Sintara for wounds, she held her arm in a grip so tight her fingers had turned a ghastly white in color. It took some coaxing before she relaxed her grip enough for him to look at it. He was a little astonished to find there was nothing there, no tear nor cut not even a scrape. At first, he thought the pain radiated from her bruised hand, they were on the same arm, and then he noticed the dragon.

Where Sapphyre had bitten Balerion the dragon's forked tongue drew over the wound in long smooth motions. It was the same front leg as Sintara's arm and with that, it came to him at once. The pain wasn't her's it was her dragon's. Unable to do anything properly for her he decided to try a different method.

"Zecora made a pact with my dragon a long time ago. In exchange for some of her blood, Zecora became Sapphyre's eternal servant. From what I can understand, drinking or bathing in the blood of a dragon has special properties." His lips tilted upwards in the barest of smiles when he got a face from the woman.

"Zecora and Saphhyre won't tell me everything about Dragon Shamen, I do know that there was a great number of them long ago. They say that Dragon Shaman have the blessings of the Lord of Light, they see things in the fire easier and are able to use the magic gifted to them better than the Red Priest and Priestesses." The more he spoke the less she seemed to recall the pain in her body. The two sat in a comforting silence for some time, nothing but the sound of Balerion's tongue and occasionally his tail moving disturbed the peace.

"Do you believe that?" Sintara asked, her eyes avoided him as she looked up at Balerion's scaled underbelly.

"Sapphyre said that these beliefs belonged to our people, the Valyrians, and it's ancient history lost with our fall. At one point even the Targaryens believed the prophecy to be true, however, with the Iron Throne, the Seven Kingdoms, and all of Westeros at their mercy we strayed from the bigger picture with the _Dance of the Dragons,_ a pretty title for the senseless bloodshed of our family and their dragons. She had believed all was lost until she found me in Dorne." It wasn't hard to tell Sintara had more questions about his past, Rhaegar made it clear that he was quite unwilling to talk about that just yet by looking elsewhere.

"How old is your dragon?" There was a touch of disdain in her voice as spoke.

"She says she's four millenniums old." The two both looked up at the dragon as he made some sort of chuffing sound in the back of his throat, it resembled a laugh in Sintara's mind.

"Does he talk to you?" Rhaegar took over asking the questions as he stared up at the dark beast.

"Balerion? No, at least not like she does. I know what he's feeling and through that alone I can pick up on his thoughts." She answered, her front teeth dug into her bottom lip when he gave her a thoughtful expression.

"You can feel his pain too? Can he feel your's?"

"Yes, but not as intense."

"You are not his rider." He commented, ignoring the scowl on her face and grumbling noise her dragon was making. "Your something to him, someone important enough for him to want to connect with you, but you are not his rider." It also meant something else, but he didn't dare voice that out loud. "Dragon and their riders have no choice in the matter of becoming partners, it's fated. That fact that Balerion has chosen to stand at your side through it all is truly incredible." He expresses his awe for the pair with a hitch in his voice.

"My Lord." The call had them all turning to look in the direction of the woman in blue, Zecora had left not long after Sapphyre had with her own orders. She carried a cup of the herbal medication that had been given by the Maester. Rheagar had to get up and grab it from her seeing as Balerion wouldn't allow her within a five-foot radius of Sintara, hissing and snarling at the woman. The man gave the cup to Sintara with instructions to drink it, but not without taking a sip himself. He wouldn't put it past Zecora to poison it, only after gauging Zecora for a reaction did he allow Sintara to drink it.

"It will help you sleep." He promised, taking the cup back when she had finished it. "You can stay with your dragon, Sapphyre won't be returning here." The man dipped his head down to press his lips against her forehead, making Sintara stiffen a little. "We'll have more to discuss tomorrow." He left the two with those parting words, taking Zecora with him.

"What is it?" The accented voice called out as soon as they were out of earshot of the Targaryen girl. Rhaegar didn't even bother asking how Zecora knew anything was wrong, she had been with him long enough to read him like a book.

"The dragon, Balerion, he is the Dragonborn the fact that he can take on Sapphyre is proof enough, he will lead the dragons when they awake. However, I was wrong. Sintara isn't the one destined to wake them. She is not the Dragonborn."

* * *

 **If you haven't noticed I am super insecure about this chapter(mostly the lore), I deleted and rewrote it at least three times. It took me a little over a week to type it up because of that and the length. Hopefully, it turned out okay?**

 **Anyway, we'll be returning back to Westeros and peeking in on the Starks and all of them in the next chapter. I got all I wanted to be done with the Targaryens for now. We'll be doing a jump ahead in time when this happens, a lot of stuff will be happening with them both good and bad. Baby Robb Stark will be making a brief appearance along with a few others future/current characters as babies. It should be a good chapter(and easier to write).**

 **For the Lore, there are a few different interpretations of the White Walker leader that are broadly different in the books and in the tv series. Such as the Night King and the Night's King, I took the 13th Commander from the book and took the title from the tv series and made them into one person instead of two separate people. I also didn't like the idea of** **having the Children be the creator of the Others due to the fact that it seriously backfired on them and I liked the books' version better.**

 **Surnames for the Targaryen Bastards is really Waters I believe, I thought that was stupid so changed it to Fire.**

 **Again, feel free to criticize my writing all you want, I know I need help with it. I've been told that I am great storyteller, but my writing can use some work. :-]**


	23. Lone Wolf

The air is frozen lace on the skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on shallow sand. Under the wintry air, the sky has been born black even in the early morning since November came. Three long and cold winters have passed and now on the fourth, Ned Stark would admit that he was starting to feel the effect of being Lord of Winterfell. In the past three years, he's lost so many members of his family.

Benjen had left as soon as he was old enough, instead of following a path chosen by their father, he took the Black. No one, save their father, had been shocked by his decision, Ravenna sent ravens to Winterfell that always spoke of how terribly she missed her home. She always spoke of how much she hated it there, the heat, the snobby aristocrats, how cruel their father was, and always urged Ben not to come to King's Landing.

Not even their mother, Lyarra Stark, had been against his decision if anything she had encouraged him and so he had left before their father could send men to drag him back to the Red Keep. After that, there was a short amount of peace here in Winterfell, until the storm came. She hadn't told them in any of the letters, never speaking about her health or about how her marriage was going.

No matter how he asked or told her about Catelyn, Robb, and his newest addition, Sansa, Ravenna refused to say anything about Robert beyond the fact that he was an oaf who couldn't keep his cock in his pants. So it came as a shock when the Knights showed up at their door along with the King himself. King Rickard Stark brought news of Princess Ravenna's death, having died during childbirth along with her stillborn son.

Their mother's health took a drastic turn with the news, she fell ill and locked herself in her room before dying in her sleeping. The deaths worsened King Rickard's mind or so he's heard, his father never wrote to them nor visited after her death. He has heard that Robert Baratheon had remarried, taking a Lannister as his wife. Lyanna, the only remaining sibling he had left in Winterfell, had left a few months ago.

She had vanished one night and a week later he had gotten a raven from Benjen stating that their sister had shown up at the Wall. He had promised to take her back home once he had the time to do so, something unusually had been going on beyond the wall and Benjen was currently busy. Ned had yet to hear anything from them since then.

Ned would have buckled under all this emotional stress if not for his supportive wife and the newest Starks, Catelyn and his children had become something he came to cherished. They became the reason he endured even through all the anguish and hurt. The man's dull gray eyes stared beyond the walls of Winterfell as a howl cut through the early morning. Phantom, the albino direwolf he had sent off a year ago.

Catelyn, despite the beast's calm and quite deposition, had told him to get rid of the wolf after Robb's birth. Phantom hadn't been the same after Raksha left with Ravenna. He often found the wolf staring outside longingly, almost as if he had been waiting for something or one. Their parting hadn't been as hard as others would have thought, they'd meet again one day.

There had been an increase of wolf sightings in the North, however, they came and went never bothering or interfering with the people or their livestock. He assumed he had Phantom to thank for that.

Now done with his brooding and reminiscing, the man's feet led him inside the walls of Winterfell and down the spacious halls. They led him to the room where his eldest son and daughter slumbered. He opened the door and found, nestled in blankets and pillows, a baby no older than one year sleeping peacefully in the room. Her bright red locks came in thick ringlets brushing along the smooth skin of her face.

She was a dear little thing, born at only five pounds four ounces, but she gained weight fast on her mother's milk and soon looked not too different from other babies of the same age. Sansa became quite chubby, developing those chubby bracelets where the fat folded at her wrists and ankles. She wasn't as sturdy as her brother had been at her age, her sweet features often had Ned fearing he'd do more harm than good just from touching her.

With a lingering glance at his daughter, Ned slowly began searching for his son small form. He was not in his bed nor in the room at all. This caused the Lord to sigh heavily underneath his breath and leave the room, shutting the door gently behind him before making his way to the cryptic. Robb enjoyed playing and roaming around Winterfell, his newest quest often led him into the crypts. The young wolf was a handful and he was only four years of age, Ned wasn't sure what he would do if Sansa turned out to be anything like her brother.

By the man reached the crypts the sun could be seen peeking through the thick mass of clouds. It was colder as he went below the ground, there were a few torches lined up on the walls already lite. He bypassed both his mother's and his sister's graves without bothering to even glance at them. His mood was already somber there was no needed to worsen it.

"Robb!" The gravel voice echoed along the wall as Ned called for his son. He had gone around fifty feet in with no sign of the child. It was silent as the echo dimmed itself and then he heard it, the crying. It was more like shrieking over crying, a wail that seemed never-ending. At first, his heart shot to his throat as feared that it was Robb, yet, as he listened to the cry it sounded more and more like the noise Sansa made whenever she was upset or someone had disturbed her sleep. It wasn't a child, it was a cry of a baby.

His eyebrows furrowed themselves as confusion sank itself deep within his mind. There should be no one in these crypts at all. At once his mind jumped to rather terrible scenarios, perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or maybe the grief pouring out of his wounded heart, all the same, he drew the sword at his side as he moved further into the tunnels. The crying refused to stop and seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.

The sound pounded against his skull and could have made ears bleed, and then it stopped. Silence once more overtook the caves, there was nothing but his frantic heartbeat and his nervous breaths.

Something darted across his peripheral vision, he swung his blade without thinking and purely due to the lack of height, the sword caught nothing but air. There was a solid thump as the boy's bottom crashed against the floor, he kicked out his legs pushing himself back against the wall. He looked somewhere around Robb's age, a mane of unruly, curly black hair, large gray eyes stared up at the blade held to close for comfort as tears were stubbornly stuck within his eyes.

"Father!" A blue-eyed boy with thick red-brown hair darted out his hiding spot and jogged as quickly as his little legs would carry him over to Ned. The sight of Robb brought Ned some ease yet still he refused to remove his sword from where it was stationed. The Lord failed to notice the third figure coming up on his right, he barely managed to keep a hold on his sword as it was knocked away from the unknown boy.

Ned backed away as -if the figure was correct- a woman materialized out of the shadows and into the light. She stepped in front of the boy, blocking him from sight as Ned did the same with his son.

He had no time for questions, the woman lunged forward with her sword over her head, bringing it down in an arch that would have caught him across his chest had he not blocked it with his own. The physical strength between the two was greatly different as Ned was easily able to push the woman back, making her lose ground. Instead of fighting a losing battle, she unlocked their swords, pulling hers away and twisted to the left.

Ned was momentarily thrown off balance with his arm extended, she took the flat of her blade and smacked it harshly against the exposed wrist. Ned's hand released his sword without his consent as hot pain burned his arm. She had the edge of her sword pressed against his neck with the next motion, steel kissing his bare skin.

With his chin raised and his eyes cast sideways, up close he could see strains of dark hair peeking out from underneath her hood, her mouth and nose were obscured by a cloth over them, and very familiar gray-hued eyes stared back at him. Both their heads turned when the soft cooing sound came from a bundle in the boy's arms. The sword was gone abruptly as the woman sheathed her blade and pulled her hood from her face.

"What have I told you about leaving him on his own." There was a sharp edge to the tone as the woman looked down a dark-haired boy who bowed his head looking a tad bit guilty. The cloth on her face was the next thing to go as she bent down to look at the younger baby in the boy's arms.

"We were just playing. He just tripped that's all." It was Robb who vouched for the boy as he came up to his father and wrapped an arm around the man's leg.

"You're not supposed to be playing, Robb. I told you already the crypt is not a place for games." Ned was thoroughly lost as he listened to the conversation going on between the pair. It was clear that Robb knew the folks, and he could guess why his son hadn't said anything about anyone being down here.

"Who are you and what are you doing here? This is no place for strangers." Ned cut in coldly as he bent down and picked up his sword. The woman paid him little mind as she sat the baby up properly in the boy's arms and fixed the fur wrapped securely around the young one.

"It's only been four years, Ned, you can't tell me you don't recognize me?" She turned to face the man with a little smile on her lips. The hair had been cut and only went to the base of her ears, there was a small scar going down to the bottom of her jaw from the lower lip, and the eyes seemed colder, but beyond that, she was one and the same.

"Ravenna?" His eyes widen and his mouth hung agape as he stared at the woman with a touch of shock. The woman's smile merely grew in size at his reaction.

"Don't look at me like that." She laughed, "It's really me. I still bested you in swordplay, didn't I?" She's always been better with a sword, gender be damned. The siblings embraced each other without another word. The three young boys remained onlookers, two of the three very confused at the sight and the youngest merely knawed on his fur.

"I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Brother." The two released one another and Ned gave his sister an inquisitive look.

"How is this possible? They brought your body home."

"They brought _a_ body home." She sighed before elaborating. "Three years in the Red Keep gives you a lot of time to make enemies." Her eyes were distance as if she were in a faraway place. "Some of the worst enemies can become your greatest allies. I faked my death, Ned." It hadn't been hard, although would have been harder if not for some extra help.

"Why?" The Lord of the North at the age of twenty couldn't exactly imagine what would be so terrible in King's Landing to go as far as faking a death. To cause so many people so much emotional pain. "Do you know what your death did to our mother?" A touch of anger and accusation slipped into his voice. The flash of hurt and pain that feel across Ravenna's face made him regret them almost at once. Still, was that not a cruel thing to do to your family? Your pack?

"I know of that, _Eddard_. I knew my actions would have great consequences but ones I was willing to make. I couldn't stand it, father's changed he's not the same man he was in the North. My husband is an ass who thinks about nothing but cunt and ale. " The woman's voice was loud just barely below a shout. "I could have handled it if it was just me I had to look after. Yet when I found that I was pregnant I had to find a way out. I couldn't raise a child there. That's when Cersei Lannister offered me a deal." She paused trying to read Ned's eyes but there was a solid wall placed between them.

"If I gave her Robert and the Throne she'd help me get out of King's Landing and make sure no one looked for me." Ravenna still wasn't exactly proud of making a deal with a devil. "She helped me fake my death, I don't where she got the bodies and I don't know how, I didn't care to ask, all that matter was that it worked. The Lannister found me a place in Flea Bottom to reside until Gendry was strong enough to make the trip." At the sound of his name, the one-year-old let out a high pitched scream of excitement.

Ravenna's chuckled as walked over and gathered the infant in her arms. He let another joyous scream for no particular reason as his mother hushed him. She took the child over to her brother with a prideful smile. "This is Gendry." She handed the blue-eyed, black-haired baby to Ned who held him at arm's length. He was heavy, much heavier than Sansa. He looked just like the man who sired him, he'd be big when he grew up.

"Is he-"

"Yes and no. He's Robert's son but he'll never sit on the throne, not as long as I breathe, Ned." Raven vowed while taking her son back and setting him on her hip. She looked over to the child who was still sitting on the ground and the nephew who had accompanied him. "Come here." With some hesitation, the boy rose and walked away from Robb to stand slightly behind his caretaker.

"Ned, while I was in Flea Bottom I brought along a maid, she was my most trusted friend. After I told her about my plans she begged to come with me. She helped out a lot both inside the Keep and with raising Gendry for the first six months. We went our separate ways a few months back, but not without her making me promise to bring her son to his father." She beckoned the boy closer and had him walk around in front of her. "This is Jon. He's Ashara Dayne's son."

The name had Ned furrowing his eyebrows before his posture went rigid. He took a knee in front of the boy who tensed a little but stood firm. The more Ned looked at him the more Stark he appeared. The boy held eye contact for no longer than three seconds before lowering them to the ground. "He can't be-"

"He is. Ashara wouldn't lie to me, not after all we've been through. He looks like a Stark, more so than even your firstborn." Ravenna commented about Robb. The four-year-old didn't seem to care nor know what she was talking about. "He's your son, he belongs in the North."

"Catelyn would never have-"

"I don't care what your wife will have to say about it. He's your son, Bastard or not your blood runs through his veins. He's staying in the North." There was a finality in her tone that said he wasn't going to find a way out of it.

"So Jon's my brother?" The silence that had stretched on was broken by Robb's words. The true Stark son didn't seem to follow everything that was going on but he knew what a son was and knew that if Jon was his father's son that made them brothers.

"It would seem so." Ned finally spoke after giving it some careful thought. Robb rushed over to the hug the boy who gave a weak and unsure smile.

"Robb followed Jon down here a couple of days ago. Gendry needed more furs, he wasn't supposed to be followed." Ravenna explained with a bright smile. "Since that is now settled, Gendry and I are going to be needing to move on."

"You're leaving Winterfell?" Ned questioned giving his sister and her son his full attention.

"I'm dead, Ned, so is Gendry. I can't stay here. I only came here because I promised Asha to drop off her son." Ravenna shifted Gendry's weight around as he slipped off into sleep. "Ashara told me I could stay in Dorne for some time. No one knows me there and I can find work." It wasn't much but it was something and something was better than nothing. "Don't give me that look." She groaned softly with a shake of her head. "I'm not staying here. Everyone knows me here and I promised that Lannister that I'd be far from King's Landing. It's too much of a risk and I have Gendry to worry about too."

"ROBB!" The shout came further down the tunnels that led to the exit. Ned cursed softly underneath his breath while looking at Robb.

"Catelyn probably has the guards out looking for you." The woman loved her children dearly, the idea of losing one always set her into a great panic.

"Go to her," Ravenna told them. "I'll be gone by nightfall. I'll write to you when I reach Dorne." She gazed down to Jon when the boy gave her this miserable, heartbroken look. "You'll be fine. Your father will take care of you and you have Robb." She reassured the child as best she could. As Catelyn's voice carried through the crypts nearer, Ravenna gave her brother a one-armed hug and pressed gentle kisses to her nephews' heads.

"Take care of each other and of the North. We'll see each other again one day." She moved further into the crypts with those parting words. A beautiful woman with auburn hair and sharp blue eyes replaced her moments later, at the sight of her son she darted forwards and wrapped him in her arms. She gave the second boy a confused look as he swiftly moved away and shifted a little closer to her husband.

Ned was still looking further down the tunnels, his face was once again made of ice but his eyes looked as broken as the night he found his mother had drawn her last breath.

"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives." He whispered his farewell to his sister, the lone wolf.

* * *

It was cold and windy on the Wall. Lyanna Stark figured that it was even colder then Winterfell. The sixteen-year-old felt right at home here.

"Lyanna!" Benjen Stark was concerned that his older sister hadn't heard him as he carefully made his way across the Wall's edge. He hated it when she did this. The young Ranger had just recently returned, ready to finally return his stubborn sister home to Winterfell. Lyanna turned towards him, waving a hand in greeting so fast he feared she'd fall right off. "Lyanna! Get off the wall it's time to leave."

She could hear her brother loud and clear, yet wanted to enjoy what little bliss she had and so cupped her hands over her ears and shrugged her shoulders, indicating she had no clue what he was saying.

Benjen scowled before moving carefully to make his way over to her sister. He was going to drag her back one way or another, she couldn't stay here anymore. The Lord Commander had been pushing it letting her remain here as it was. The closer he got the farther she moved backward, he was growing more and more frustrated with her childish antics. Wasn't she supposed to be the older one?

Lyanna took step after step away from her brother, why couldn't he understand she just wanted to stay here for a little longer. There was nothing at Winterfell for her. Her brother was married, Mother was dead, Father was in King's landing, Benjen was on the wall, and Ravenna was dead. Her pack had completely fallen apart and she wasn't sure how to deal with it.

She had hoped that seeing Benjen would help her resolve some of her inner turmoil but he hadn't even been at the wall most of the time she was here. She felt lost with nowhere to g—

She coughed once and then twice as a dull pain cut through her chest. Her eyes blinked as she drew in a breath and felt nothing but agony. Her vision slowly grew blurry as she watched Benjen's face twisted into something that resembled pure horror. Her chin touched her chest as she made out the sharp heads of two arrows sticking out through her breastbone and lower torso.

Her muscles lose their strength and she tips to the side. Benjen is unable to reach her as she plunges off the side of the wall. Her vision goes dark and she takes her last breath well before she hit the snow-covered floor below.

Lyanna wakes suddenly, eyes snapping open and body jolting upright as her hands' dart to her torso along with her eyes. There is nothing there, no arrows sticking out, no pain, nothing. She takes in a breath of relief, it was just a dream. As her fears and adrenaline wear off she noticed something very wrong with her hands, they were a bluish white in color. She was usually considered rather pale living in the north, but this was extreme.

As her eyes peer straight ahead she sees three feet in front of her a reflection, something that looks like a girl is staring back at her, the eyes are practically glowing blue and her skin is unnatural. She spots movement out of the corner of her eye, her head swing in the direction of the incoming figure.

She pushes herself against a wall of ice as he came into her line of sight. A man dressed in some sort of armor, skin- if that what it could be called- was an even deeper blue and white than her own. He took a knee to place himself at eye level with her. There were horns, small horns jutting out of his skull. He had no hair, not an even one, and the bluest eyes she's ever seen.

He raised a hand and brushed her cheek, his touch as cold as death yet shockingly soothing. "I knew you'd return." The man's voice was soft and made her stiffen. "My Night Queen."

* * *

 **Another chapter that I'm not really sure how it turned it out. Lyanna's small part in this story(as confusing and little sense as it makes) will be better elaborated in future chapters. I was just going to kill her, but then I figured I could have her play a bigger part in the story without her being dead, as in the ground kind of dead. She's still pretty dead right now...sorta. Anyway thanks for any reviews, favorites, and follows I really do appreciate every one of them.  
**


	24. Old Friends

There is an intense anxiety to the rain as if between the tumbling cloud and the earth it is fearful of never reaching its destination. A man pulls the black hood tighter over his saturated form as he saunters in the soft rain, small pellets of water spitting on his hands as the remainder of the drops quench the scattered puddles decorating the stone that lined the walkway. There were very few people that lined the streets of Bravvos on this rainy day. The man would say that the weather fit the somber mood that Bravvos was in quite well.

The falling droplets were blocked by the great stone walls of the Sealord's palace as the man stepped into the elaborate entrance. He stopped at once by the guards stationed there, but a light tug of his cloak reveals a blade as pale as milkglass. The guards were quick to back down and let him pass. He walked through the spacious corridors as if this palace was his own.

Even inside it seemed as if no one resided within it. There were no servants, no voices, no life. Turning the corner he took the several flights of stairs down deep into the palace where the cells rested. His feet let him down the torch lite hallways to one cell in particular.

The prison cell was barely six feet by four. The walls were the same thick grey stone as the dwellings of the region, but instead of a wide window, there was a mean barred opening with thick metal bars and no glass. In the summer the fresher air was a relief, helping to alleviate the stench of festering sewage but in the cold seasons it let in a wicked draft and reduced the temperature to near freezing.

It was no brighter inside than the gathering gloom of dusk, even at midday. The bed was a plank of wood on legs, there was no mattress, no cushioning and only one thin blanket. It was either suffocatingly quiet or pierced with the screams of tortured inmates.

The hood was removed as he stepped towards the ajar door of the cell, a man stood with his back to him. His long platinum blonde hair looked purely white in the torchlight that bounced off the damp, dirty walls. Rhaegar glanced over his shoulder at his friend's approach and made no bother to greet him as the hood was pulled off.

Authur Dayen was a sight for sore eyes, having acquired a thick and unnatural looking scar that stretched in a neat almost perfectly straight line along his throat. He did not talk about it ever. The man showed up at the palace three years ago on the back of his crimson stallion, a mere husk of a man that was Authur Dayen.

No one could figure out what was wrong with him, no maester nor healer, nothing was physically wrong with him beyond the several new scars he had acquired, the maester said that with the position of the scars and how they had healed no one should have survived whatever he had gone through. He had and he was here now, returning to the only place and the only people he could safely call home.

"They're not in Bravvos, I've had the men searched th-"

"I know where they are." Rhaegar interrupted, stepping out of the cell to shut and lock it behind him. As his Lord walked ahead of him, Authur couldn't help but rest his eyes rested on, Zecora, the once beautiful shaman that was caged inside it. Her skin was paler, eyes appeared to be sunk into her head, wrinkles covered her body. A hag sat in her place.

Authur knew the woman well she had once been like a second mother to him, she had served his family for a time. How she had turned into something so hideous both inside and out he could not say. He turned away from the hag and moved to follow after his Lord.

"Six days ago, Sintara came to Zecora saying that she had received a vision from the Lord of Light." The Lord kept his voice flat and controlled, hiding the inner turmoil brew beneath the surface. "She saw a pack of wolves, it starts out with four wolves, the eldest two take mates and four turns into a pack of ten. The youngest she-wolf of the original four leaves the pack and comes backs later with unnaturally blue eyes and leaves a trail of frost wherever she walks.

She murders her entire pack, tears the throats out of the adults and rips the pups apart limb from limb. With the pack gone, creatures come out of the forest with the same eery blue eyes as the she-wolf, together they march on King's Landing with something overhead that eclipse the sun."

Authur listened as he tried to keep up with his Lord's rapid pace. He couldn't know what he was saying or where exactly they were going he just knew his friend was in a foul mood. When he had arrived Sintara and Rheagar had already been legally married. Six months later they had been expecting their first child, a son.

A month before the child was born, Sintara fell fatally ill with a fever. Rhagar brought Sintara to the Maester and Herbalist, both who had no idea what was wrong with her. In an act of desperation, he brought her to the only one he could turn to in his time of need, Sapphyre. The dragoness took one whiff from the woman and knew instantly what it was.

It was a herb called Dragon Thorn, a plant that is now extinct but grew in abundance Sothoryos. It could be used in small doses to rid the body of certain diseases, using too much can cause serious side effects and be fatal. By the time they figured out Zecora was mixing in the plant in the herbal remedy and food Sintara was given every day it was already too late.

They were able to save Sintara, but they lost the child. Sintara hasn't been the same since then, no longer did she wish to sit on the Iron Throne. She grew distant from her husband and she was quick to rise in temper whenever the Iron Throne or King's Land was brought up, she started having nightmare terrible and disturbing nightmare.

Both of them had hoped that she would settle after the second child, a healthy baby girl was born. It was true that she was happier with her daughter but still something remained amiss. Three days ago the woman vanished, no matter where they looked nor how long they could find no trace of her. Balerion and their daughter could not be found either, at first Rheagar had thought she had left him and all he felt was cold anger.

But after three sleepless nights of worry, he concluded that although she had not been the happiest she hadn't been unhappy with him. Rheagar loved her it was plain and simple, but even after all this time together he still couldn't gauge Sintara's feelings for him. She loved him, yes, but he knew in the back of his mind that it was not as strong nor as deep as his feelings for her. It was not something he could ever hold against her.

The Targaryen led them outside to the enormous courtyard where a massive blue female stood waiting for them. Arthur remained stationed just at the doorway while Rheagar stride up the blue beauty. "She's in the North."

 _"Hm...well that took you longer to figure out then I thought. I told your mate she'd get a two-day head start not three._ " The dragon's voice was filled with boredom and a little spite. Rheagar widened his purple-hued eyes and looked rather astonished. There was no point in hiding his emotions with her, she knew him better than he knew himself.

"How long?"

 _"About five days ago your mate came to me. She told me about her latest vision, unfortunately, I had to tell her that I had no clue on understanding how visions work but the Shaman could help her."_

The dragoness was still rather furious with Zecora, she had been such a good and loyal servant for so long and then she had to go and do something as foolish as poison her rider's mate and kill their unborn hatchling. Humans and their petty emotions still made little sense to her. _"I gave her something to make sure Zecora was...helpful. It worked, she came back and told me that she'd be heading to the North and that was that."_ Sapphyre yawned loudly, shaking the earth a fraction.

Rheagar could not believe what he was hearing, for so long Rheagar's driving himself mad in search of his lover and his dragon had the answers all along. "Why you?" There was a razor sharp edge in his tone that shook with disbelief. Sapphyre and Sintara were still at odds with each other, they tolerated one another but that was about it. So why did she come to the dragon before him?

 _"Don't ask questions you know the answers to."_ She raised her lips to show off her fangs. _"She knows that I will hide nothing from her, know that I will speak truthfully to her no matter how painful it is."_

It felt like a bucket of frigid cold water had been dump all over his body. Rational thoughts were empty from his mind as raised a hand and pressed over his eyes while shaking his head back and forth, blonde locks flowing with every movement. "You did not. You swore to me, Sapphyre."

" _You couldn't keep hiding the truth from her forever, little one. She had to be told."_ The eldest dragon noticed how fragile her rider was right now, yet she had already started something that she could not stop. _"She is not the Dragonborn, she never was. The reason Balerion was so close to her is that she was to give birth to the True Dragonborn, your hatchling. Now that he has his rightful rider, the connection between him and her will fade into nothing."_ She did not mince her words ever. The world was a cruel place you just had to learn how to be harsher.

* * *

There is nothing friendly about the snow outside; it falls thick enough to blind any traveler by foot or horse. The gale whips each flake, so pretty on its own, into a projectile that hurts unguarded skin. The sky above has none of the light that noon-time should have, so thick are the black clouds. And the sound, like one wind-chime taking the force these almost hurricane force winds. "Blizzard" hardly seems an adequate enough word for what the world outside has become.

Cold licked at her face and crept under her clothes, spreading across her skin like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach. In hopes of coping with the extreme climate change, Sintara tried to think about something else. Such as how Balerioin has grown apart from her these past two years, how she kept replaying Sapphyre words over and over in her head, how it was near impossible for the dragon to be lying. The cold felt better than the pain that spread through her chest.

A lurch has her hands wrapping tighter around the spikes that jut out of his neck. They are losing altitude and gliding closer to the snow-covered floor. Sintara tugs at the spikes trying to get Balerion higher in the air but he ignores her as he has done so many times in the past. At his age, he was considered an adult grown but not fully. He now beat his elder in both wingspan by a good eighty feet, length by at least fifty, and was over two hundred and fifty feet in height, this blizzard was nothing to him. She couldn't guess what was wrong with him until she remembered his hindleg.

There was one leg that he never set on the ground during their travels. She wasn't allowed to look at it without being growled or hissed at so couldn't tell if there was a problem with his leg or not. He wasn't himself and hasn't been for a while now. "Balerion! What's wrong?" No matter how hard she pushed she could not find what ailed him through their fading connection.

They landed roughly, Balerion scrabbling to keep his balance as Sintara lose her grip and was tossed from his back. She flew five yards before slamming into the ground on her side, sharp shocks of pain shot through her ribs and had her gasping for breath. The years have been good to her but things like this tended to agitate old injuries.

Sintara wasn't sure how long she laid there, pulling in ice-cold gulps of air and let out sharp pained pants. She breathed in and out until she could tolerate it. With the dragon's body heat radiating off him, she felt the full effects of the cold even through the furs and the extra clothing. The runsack on her back threw off of her balance along with the quiver full of arrows and her bow, they had her swaying to one side as she sat up.

"Mama!"

Sintara pressed a gloved hand to her head as the high pitched scream cut through the howling winds. Her head hurt perhaps she had hit it because she swore she just heard her daughter.

"Mamaaaaaa!" It was a wail this time that broke off into a fit of sobs. "Mamaaaaaaaaa!"

Shit. Sintara's pain was shoved away as she pushed herself to her feet. In the blizzard there was no way to know which direction to go, the usual landmarks were hidden behind the white that swirled so densely. This couldn't be happening to her. She was not supposed to be here. It was pure blind luck, nothing more nothing less, that had her finding the tiny child sitting on the ground with snow beginning to pack around her body. She bent down to wrap her arms around the little girl who clung to her like a second skin.

Sintara had no time to question how in the world the girl had gotten here. The lack of Balerion spoke loudly of his guilt. She could feel her blood cool and her skin become icy. "Balerion!" She called for the dragon although her voice was ripped away by the wind. They shouldn't have come, not in this weather. Disorientation was a given, and the cold was a killer. The world was being erased around her, and they'd be with it if they didn't find shelter...

That when the eyes started showing up. From the whiteness came a wolf, it's body hunkered low to the ground. She watched, her own limbs frozen in place as she tightened her grip on her child. Despite its proximity, there was no sound, it circled left rather than coming directly to her. On instinct she turned around, there were more, pouring out from the storm, flowing rather than running.

Each one was a silver-grey, not uniform, but with lighter and darker shades. Each had their muzzle slightly open revealing yellowed teeth larger than any domestic dog she'd ever seen. As slowly as she dared she let her hand fall to the handle of her dagger. There is a sword made of Valyerian steel on the right of her hip, but she can not swing it without setting down her daughter and she would not do that.

A loud growl came from behind us and she turned to see a wolf. Its thick pelt of thick grey fur had risen and stood sharply on end. Its hackles raised in defense and it bared a set of razor teeth. It stood low to the floor so its shoulder blades protruded a little giving the impression it was about to pounce. Sintara had her free hand wrapped firmly around hilt as she took one step back.

The wolf leaps but never reached her. A second one intercepts, snatch the smaller one out of the by its neck and slamming it into the snow. The wolf lets out a whine of pain as bigger one let out a warning growl and releases, the wolf is gone with its tail in between its legs. The others scattered as soon as saw her coming, the she-wolf stays turning her head to regard Sintara. If she weren't so cold with a sniffling daughter in her arms, the Targaryen might have actually shed a tear or two.

"Raksha." There was so much emotion in that one word. The Direwolf wagged her tail appearing more like a massive domestic dog over an aggressive wolf. Raksha walked through the snow standing to tower over the shorter woman, tongue darting out lick her face. Sintara wanted to laugh she really did but the wet saliva cooled abruptly and set a shiver down her back. Wordlessly, Raksha lowered herself closer to the ground and waited for her to climb on.

Sintara didn't give it a second thought as she rubbed her daughter's back to get her to relax her arms a little. "Listen, Zaldrītsos[little dragon]." At the High Valryian nickname her father had given her daughter relaxes a little more. "We're going with a friend, I need you to let go of me." She speaks directly next to the small blonde ear. It takes a few seconds before the child releases her mother. She places the two-year-old on the she-wolf's back unable to see her daughter's expression at the sight of the wolf.

She merely pushes the child down so that her stomach rested on Raksha's back and climbed behind her, bracing her arms around while leaning forwards to protect her as best she could from the harsh elements. Raksha shot off as soon as she was certain both of them were on. Sintara digs her fingers into the wolf's back and clings on to her as if her life depended on it, but it wasn't her life she cared for at the moment. She felt helpless, for now, all she could do was put her faith in old friends and pray to the Lord and Lady that her daughter would come out of this safely.

* * *

He woke the same way he had yesterday, with a dog butt in his face. The boy jerks his head back startling the pup behind him and disturbing his little pack of wolf pups. With the puppies up the den mother wakes and growls at them, she doesn't look happy in the boy's opinion.

Two weeks ago, Jon Snow had started his life as the bastard son of Ned Stark. He learned a lot in his first week, the lady of the house despised him. The four-year-old was not sure what he had done to earn her scorn, but the looks she cast and the harsh words she sent him always had the boy uneasy and a little frightened of her. Being a brother was fun, though. Robb Stark got along well with his half-brother, the two were practically joined at the hip when Robb wasn't busy with his lessons.

Robb made everything just a little bit easier to handle. It was the second week that made him wish that he had stayed with his mother or Ravenna. He was an innocent child of four who no clue how deep the hatred of a Stark Bastard ran in Winterfell. It was a disgrace to the honorable reputation in the North.

He and Robb had been playing fighting by the training grounds with wooden swords before Lady Catelyn called her trueborn son in for his lessons. Jon was left cleaning up their mess and was in the midst of finishing when the guard came up and told him his Lord father was waiting for him. The guard didn't tell him where or why and Jon simply went with him because he didn't see the point in not going with him.

That led him to be lost in the middle of nowhere in a forest. The guard brought him out there on horseback, dumped him, and then rode back to Winterfell. He should have been dead the first night, unable to find shelter from deadly temperatures the north dropped to at night. His saving grace came in the form of an enormous white wolf with crimson eyes and a scar. The wolf brought him to his pack's den and dropped him in a pile of puppies and Jon's been here since then.

He has only seen the white wolf once since then when he came with a stale piece of bread in his maw. He sat and watched, occasionally snapping at the pups that tried to steal the bread, and waited until Jon had eaten every last bite and then left again. Jon mostly slept, the cave he was in was large enough to hold an entire pack and then some. He was allowed to go where he pleased so long as that didn't involve going outside. The pups were fun to play with, but they bit too hard and got rougher than his limited body could handle so he tried not to play with them too much.

Right now, as the pups began to play fight or bother their den mother, Jon took the chance to sneak out and through the cave. His feet led him to the center of the cave where a majority of the pack resided. The youth was interested as to what had all of their attention. Very carefully, watching his feet to keep from stepping on tails, Jon pushed his way through the bodies to the front. There was that big brownish she-wolf, the biggest female in the pack. She was resting with something laying against her side.

Jon took a few more steps forward, stopping when the she-wolf opened an eye and stared at him. He moved again only when the eye shut, a silent signal that she was alright with him drawing closer. There was a lady on the cave floor with a little girl tucked away against her chest. A mother and daughter? The thought makes him miss his own mother. He recalls the nights she'd cuddle with him under the blankets. It hurts to remember so he does not.

The hood of her cloak was down revealing the endless stream of the whitest hair Jon had ever seen. The lady was pretty even more so than Lady Stark. He had to move closer to look at the girl bundled in her arms. She looked like a miniature version of the woman, or at least he thinks so this cave did not have the best lighting.

He is still staring at the pair when the light lavender eyes shot open and stare at him. He forgets how to breathe for a moment as a touch of heat brushes along pale cheeks. The girl is up and after making sure her mother is still there, she wiggles herself out from the arm holding and moves to lay on her side facing Jon. She is disorientated and still half asleep which is the only reason why she is not crying.

"Who are you?" The voice comes out in a whisper that still bounces off the walls of the cave.

"Jon Snow."

"Snow, that's a funny name." Her lips quirk at the corners. "Wanna come lay with me and Mama?" A yawn escapes the girl's mouth after the question. Her eyes flutter and she's asleep again before Jon can answer her.

The big she-wolf suddenly gets up, a low rumbling noise coming from her chest. The wolves that hear it rise to their paws and move to take their Alpha's place as heat for humans.

Jon is still staring at the sleeping girl with his brows furrowed together, however, takes her offer to rest even though all he's done is sleep. He walks around to the woman's other side as she now slept on her back, he takes a seat and rests his head on her chest as the wolves circle around before laying down as physical close as they can get without waking the sleeping pair. It doesn't take long for Jon's eyes to slip shut as he drifts off just like the girl.

* * *

Ned raised a gloved hand to shield his eyes. He had anticipated the coldness and the sting of driven snow on his face, but not the ferocity of the wind and how the white blinded him. It was like walking into a fresh page as the fibers are still being laid down, threatening to make him part of the scenery instead of a person in his own right. Below him, he could feel the shiver running through his horse's whole body.

"Lord Stark..." The man was just able to catch the voice of one of his guards calling to him from his right. "We need to go back the-" Ned did not catch all of what was said as the wind devoured his words.

This blizzard had come unexpectedly to the North, of course, it had to be the on the day Jon had gone missing. The boy had not been seen since yesterday, Robb had last been playing with him outside. No one had noticed him missed his meal and Robb could not find him in his room. Catlyin had suggested that he had run off and seemed completely fine otherwise, at least that it was it appeared to be to those who did not know her as well as her husband.

Today she was the one who suggests to both him and the guards that they go look for the boy. Catlyin may not approve of the child, but every woman seemed to have a nurturing side when it came to children and babies even the ones they don't like.

Ned has been outside with eight other men combing the territory for over three hours with no sign of the boy. In a storm like this one can only hope to find much of anything. It has been some time since Ned found out that Jon Snow was his son, and in that small amount of time Ned's come to see more of himself in the boy then he did in his trueborn children. He was a solemn and silent child, he didn't speak much unless spoken to first.

He liked to play with Robb yet didn't mind being on his own. Even though he hasn't really taken to Catlyin he was respectful towards her. He fit himself right into Winterfell with no problem. It would be easy to forget he was even there if Robb was not always pestering to play with him. Jon Snow was his son, whether he was a bastard or not. Ned would find him.

Lost within his head, the man didn't notice the beast lumbering towards him till his horse lifted its hooves off the ground to rear, sending Ned falling to the earth. The few men in his patrol had barely spotted him but their mounts sensed the threat of a predator got skittish. One by one they lost control of their horses, either taking off wildly or sending their riders off their backs, the horses scattered. Ned found easily found his footing in time to catch scarlet moons gazing at him.

"Phantom?" His voice was carried away with the winds even so the wolf seemed to of heard him well enough. Phantom took the last pawful of steps to stand beside the man, blocking the winds and the swirling snow as he dipped his head to push it firmly against Ned's chest. Those rare smiles bloomed upon Ned's lips fleetingly as he petted his old friends head as best he could. It had only been a few years, yet it was as if the wolf had gotten bigger?

"Have you seen him?" He asked, getting straight to the point as the wolf stepped away far enough to engulf him in those intelligent red eyes. "My son, I've lost my son." There was distressed hitch as he actually said the words out loud. The fear was indescribable. Phantom gave nothing away as he merely lowered himself a few inches and waited for the Stark to climb on. Ned hesitated for no longer than a few seconds before grabbing a fist full of fur and swinging himself up onto the wolf's broad back.

Phantom was up and moving before Ned to call out to his men and tell them to return to Winterfell. Hopefully, they were smart enough to return home without him. The wolf's movements are fluid and without apparent effort as if his limbs were the finest machines ever made. What felt like days turning into years, was mere minutes turning into hours before Phantom slowed from his run into a light trot. His paws brought him further up a mountainside.

They reached a wide open area in the mountain where the sides were tall enough that wind could only batter against the walls and the snow that slipped through fell gently. Up ahead there was a large opening, a mouth of a cave. Ned pushed himself off Phantom's back, nearly falling into the snow as his legs had trouble holding his weight. Riding a wolf was nothing like riding a horse. After his legs regain their strength he made his way towards the cave.

The walls that surrounded him on either side suddenly began to shake, the snow that encased them fell away to reveal the blackness underneath them. Ned's hand reached for Ice but never grabbed it as a low snarl from the huge wolf on his right kept him still. There he lay, a vast dragon the color of the night, fast asleep; a thrumming came from his jaws and nostrils, and wisps of smoke, but his fires were low in slumber. Ned remains paralyzed in shocked as his eyes roamed over the monstrous form.

"Balerion!" From the cave, a squeal of delight comes rousing the slumbering dragon who's eyes flicker open as if a switch had just been flipped. His head raises, Ned knows he is seen as soon one cat-like pupil turns to him momentarily before ignoring him. There a child coming out of the cave, her hair is white blonde, eyes large, round, and purple in color, and her skin is unblemished yet maybe a shade more colorful than those in the north. Balerion lowers his head as super small arms embrace what they could reach of the enormous creature.

Ned remains unmoving like a statue as he observes them. He is so still it takes the girl a few seconds to notice him.

"Who are you?" She can't be more than two or three but her voice is surprisingly clear and easy to understand. When she gets no answer she tries again in her Mother's tongue. "Skoros iksis aōha brōzi?"

"Ned Stark." He finally answers, pulled out of his daze by her High Valyrian.

"Hi, Ned Stark. I'm Daenerys Targaryen. Balerion says he knows you." The dragon let's out a huff of air that comes out as thick black smoke through his nostrils. "Mama is mad at you." Her words are for the dragon and not him for he looks somewhat displeased.

"Dany!" Everyone's heads turn to back to the cave where a woman stands. Her hair is longer, her eyes sharper, and she had more weapons on her person than he last remembers but there is no doubt that the little girl belonged to her. "Stop leaving the cave." She sounds both tired and annoyed.

"Father?" Ned failed to notice the boy peeking out from behind her. Jon looks relieved at the sight of the man who is still beyond baffled yet overjoyed to see his child alive and unharmed. First Ravenna and now her. Ned schools his face into a composed mask as he nods to his son and stares at the woman.

"Sintara Targaryen."

"Eddard Stark. You've grown a beard."

* * *

 **"Skoros iksis aōha brōzi?"= "What is your name?"**

 **I had planned to have this chapter out last month but got sidetracked. Sorry for that and any mistakes I was really distracted when typing this. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for any reviews, follows, or favorites.**


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